PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 


PRACTICAL   PUBLIC 
SPEAKING  • 

A    TEXT-BOOK    FOR    COLLEGES 
AND   SECONDARY  SCHOOLS 

S.  H.  CLARK  A™  F.  M.  BLANCHARD 

THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CHICAGO 

.     -    .                        .       . 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 

KFW    VORJT    IOOT 

e  «  A 

Of  THE 

UNIVERSITY 


COPYRIGHT,  1899,  BY 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


TROW  DIRECTORY 

PRINTING  AND   BOOKBINDING  COMPANY 
NEW   YORK 


CONTENTS 


MM 

INTRODUCTION..,  ix 


part  ©ne. 

THE    FUNDAMENTALS  OF  PUBLIC    SPEAKING. 

CHAPTER  I  — DIRECTNESS 3 

The  Call  to  Arms Patrick  Henry 5 

The  Eloquence  of  John  Adams Daniel  Webster 10 

Speech  on  a  Motion  for  an  Ad- 

dress  to  the  Throne Lord  Chatham 18 

America's  Duty  to  Greece Henry  Clay 29 

CHAPTER  II. — EARNESTNESS 33 

Affairs  in  Cuba John  M.  Thurston 35 

Against  Centralization Henry  W.  Orady 41 

Speech  on  the  War  of  1812 Henry  Clay 47 

Impeachment  of  Warren  Hastings . .  Edmund  Burke 65 

CHAPTER  III.  — DIGNITY 69 

Second  Inaugural  Address Abraham  Lincoln 61 

The  Martyr  President Henry  Ward  Beecher. . .  64 

Speech  at  the  Dedication  of  the 
National  Cemetery  at  Gettys- 
burg   Abraham  Lincoln 71 

Oration  at  the  Laying  of  the  Cor- 
ner-Stone of  the  Bunker  Hill 

Monument. .                              . .  Daniel  Webster  . .  73 


97523 


CONTENTS 


part 

THE  STUDY  OP  DETAIL. 

•Ml 
CHAPTER  IV.  —  MOODS  ....................................     85 

Reply  to  Hayne  ..................  Daniel  Webster  ........     87 

CHAPTER  V.  —  IMPRESSFVENESS  .............................     97 

The  Wonders  of  the  Dawn  .......  Edward  Everett.  .......     98 

Avalanches  of  the  Jungfrau  .......  O.  B.  Cheever  .........   100 

The  First  View  of  the  Heavens  .  .  .  .  O.  M.  Mitchel  ..........   103 

Regulus  to  the  Carthaginians  ......  E.  Kellogg  ............  105 

CHAPTER  VI.—  CONTRAST  .................................  109 

Tact  and  Talent  .................  London  Allot  ..........  110 

Rome  and  Carthage  ..............  Victor  Hugo  ...........   112 

Spartacus  to  the  Gladiators  ........  E.  Kellogg  ............  114 

CHAPTER  VII.—  CLIMAX  ...................................  118 

Cassius's  Complaint  of  Cseaar  ......  Shakespeare  ...........  121 

Liberty  and  Union  ................  Daniel  Webster  ........  123 


part  Ubree. 

STYLES  OP  DELIVERY. 

CHAPTER  VIII.— THE  COLLOQUIAL  STYLE Aj7 

Hamlet's  Advice  to  the  Players Shakespeare 127 

Eloquence  of  O'Connell »»>//,/,  //  /'I,  i7/i/« .  . . 

The  Homes  of  the  People Henry  W.  Grady  . 

Paul  Revere's  Ride George  William  Curtis 

CHAPTER  IX. — THE  ELEVATED  STYLE 138 

A  Reminiscence  of  Lexington Theodore  Parker 

Death  of  Garfield James  O.  Maine 141 

Plymouth  Rock Daniel    Webster . .  143 


CONTENTS  Yii 

PAOB 

CHAPTER  X  — THE  IMPAHSIONED  STTLB 146 

Hotspur  to  Worcester. .  Shakespeare 147 

Sbjlock  fur  the  .U-w* .   Shakespeare 147 

Against  Curtailing  the  Right  of 

Suffrage  .Victor  Hugo 149 

On  the  Irish  Disturbance  Hill.       .  .Darnel  O'Co**eU  ..       .161 


part  four. 

THE    FORMS  OF  DISCOURSE. 

CHATTER  XL— THE  FORMS  or  DISCOURSE 155 

The  Burning  of  Moscow ./.  T.  /ftadJfy 156 

The  Battle  of  Waterloo. .  Ffctor  Hugo  .  .  168 

Waterloo  Vietor  Hugo 

American  Taxation  .  Edmund  Burke 182 

Henry's  Speech  before  Aginconrt. .  Skakufmn 194 

An  Appeal  for  Liberty Joseph  Story  ..  196 

Plea  for  the  Old  South  Church, 

Boston..  .WtndfU  PhiUipt 198 


part  r ire. 

ORATIONa 

Pnu'iJuXII       OKVTI..NS o(j:; 

Repeal  of  the  Union. .  Danitl  O'ConntU 904 

Defence  of  the  Kennistons Danitl  Wcbttir 216 

Reply  to  Flood iry  Gratlan 241 

^b«  New  South I/enry  W.  Orady    248 

Against  Search- WarrmnU  for  Sea- 
men ..LordChaiham 261 

Suspension  of  the  Habeas  Corpus 

Act.  .John  Bright  .  270 

The  Nature  of  Christ Henry  Ward  Beeehtr . . .  284 


INTRODUCTION 

DURING  the  past  few  years  there  has  developed  a 
marked  increase  of  interest  in  public  speaking.  Near- 
ly all  the  leading  institutions  of  learning  have  estab- 
lished chairs  of  oratory,  or  forensics,  and  many  high- 
schools  and  normal  schools  are  devoting  considerable 
attention  to  the  subject.  The  groat  number  of  inter- 
rollrgiate  and  inter-preparatory  school  contests  in  so 
many  of  the  States  is  an  additional  sign  of  the  growth 
of  interest  in  public  speaking. 

The  reason  for  this  increased  attention  is  not  far 
to  seek.  Educators  have  come  to  recognize  that  the 
training  derived  from  this  study  is  not  only  practical, 
but  in  the  highest  degree  educational.  Such  train- 
ing results  in  the  undoubted  advantage  that  comes 
to  one  who  can  expre j/  himself  forcibly  in  public ; 
and,  further,  it  gives  the  unique  culture  that  can  be 
derived  only  from  actual  contact  with  the  thought  of 
the  great  statesmen  and  orators  of  the  past.  In  the 
burning  words  of  Patrick  Henry,  we  recognize  the 
very  spirit  of  the  Revolution ;  and  what  view  of  anti- 
slavery  days  can  we  get  clearer  than  that  which  ap- 
pears in  the  speeches  of  Stephen  Douglas  and  Wen- 
dell Phillips  ?  Furthermore,  the  study  of  oratory  in 


X  INTRODUCTION 

its  larger  aspect  cannot  fail  to  develop  the  jpgical 
acumen  of  the  pupil.  And  lastly,  we  must  not  over- 
look the  value  of  oratorical  training  in  developing  the 
emotional  side  of  the  student.  The  modern  scientific 
spirit  oftentimes  leads  us  to  believe  that  the  expres- 
sion of  emotion  belongs  only  to  the  uncultured.  The 
arrangement  of  the  modern  curriculum  precludes  the 
development  of  the  emotional  nature.  Tllfif^01'^!  ft1** 
work  in  Dublicspeakin^  comes  \n  as  a  legitimate  and 
necessary  corrective  for  the  too  narrow  applications! 
the  scientific  spirit  in  education! 

]Etr>tlifl  o44uil  to  oGtain  the  best  results  in  public 
speaking  many  methods  have  been  tried.  A  large 
number  of  these  have  been  successful,  but  none  has 
seemed  entirely  to  satisfy  the  needs  of  high-school 
and  college  students,  perhaps  because  they  are 
either  too  detailed  and  technical  or  lacking  altogether 
in  specific  direction.  In  other  words,  they  are  not 
adapted  to  the  conditions  which  surround  the  teach- 
ing of  public  speaking  in  our  higher  institutions  of 
learning.  One  year  is  the  average  time  given  to  the 
teaching  of  this  subject  in  our  colleges,  a  period  much 
too  brief  in  which  to  cover  even  partially  the  entire 
field  of  vocal  expression.  After  careful  experiment 
with  college  classes,  the  authors  have  prepared  the 
present  work  with  the  view  to  giving  the  student  the 
largest  amount  of  practical  training  with  a  minimum 
of  theory. 

In  the  arrangement  of  the  steps  in  this  book,  the 
endeavor  has  been  made  to  conform  to  sound  psycho- 
logical principles.  The  fundamentals  are  studied 


INTRODUCTION  xi 

before  the  details,  and  the  student's  attention  is 
directed  to  but  one  principle  at  a  time.  The  various 
extracts  are  chosen  with  great  care.  It  is  true  that 
the  perfect  rendering  of  every  extrac^equires  the 
fastery  of  all  the  elements  that  go  to  make  effective 
speaking,  but  in  this  book  each  selection  is  particu- 
larly adapted  for  practice  on  the  principle  discussed 
in  the  chapter  in  which  it  is  found. 
Every  teacher  will  have  his  own  method  of  train- 
students.  Nevertheless,  without  presuming  to 
atize  on  the  subject,  the  authors  would  present 
briefly  the  plan  which  they  endeavor  to  follow  in 
their  own  classes.  Whenever  possible,  there  should 
not  be  more  than  twenty  students  in  each  class, 
; u id  they  should  meet  twice  a  week  for  an  eiitiro 
school  year.  Less  than  two  meetings  a  week  would 
not  hold  the  interest  of  the  class,  and  where  there 
are  but  sixty  or  seventy  recitation  periods  in  the 
course,  it  is  not  advisable  to  have  them  too  close 
together,  since  by  so  doing  there  would  hardly  be 
sufficient  time  between  classes  for  the  student  to 
assimilate  the  instruction  and  prepare  the  lessons. 
As  far  as  possible,  it  should  be  the  aim  to  have 
every  student  appear  before  the  class  at  every  reci- 
tation. Many  students  are  unused  to  the  sound  of 
their  own  voices  in  public,  and  require  much  prac- 
tice before  their  real  power  begins  to  manifest  itself. 
A  brief  portion  or  paragraph  should  be  assigned  to 
each  student,  and  some  care  should  be  exercised,  in 
order  that  he  may  get  that  portion  best  fitted  to 
afford  the  practice  he  most  needs.  In  delivering  the 


xii  INTRODUCTION 

part  assigned  to  him,  the  student  should  never  leave 
out  of  inind  the  purpose  of  the  entire  speech,  so  that 
when  the  speech  is  concluded  it  may  affect  the  audi- 
ence as  if  it  had  all  been  delivered  by  a  single  in- 
dividual. The  amount  of  time  to  be  devoted  to  each* 
step  is  a  question  each  teacher  must  decide  for  him- 
self. Unquestionably,  a  great  deal  must  be  put  upon 
the  first :  Directness.  However,  when  the  majority 
of  the  class  have  grasped  the  spirit  of  a  chapter,  it 
would  be  well  to  pass  on  to  the  next,  keeping  well  in 
mind  that  each  step  may  afford  the  opportunity  for 
carrying  into  practice  all  the  principles  that  have 
preceded  it.  Occasionally,  certain  students  may  be 
kept  at  one  step  while  the  rest  of  the  class  pass  on 
to  the  next.  However,  this  will  not  often  be  neces- 
sary, inasmuch  as  they  may  be  given  prescriptive 
work,  upon  which  they  may  practise  and  at  the  same 
time  go  forward  with  advance  steps  with  the  remain- 
der of  the  class. 

It  is  impossible  to  lay  too  much  stress  upon  the 
Necessity  for  constructive,  positive,  encouraging  criti- 
Without  in  any  way  misleading  the  student 
as  to  his  shortcomings,  the  teacher  will  obtain  far 
better  results  by  telling  him  what  to  do,  what  to 
strive  for,  than  by  continually  harping  on  what  he 
must  not  do.  Occasionally,  negative,  destructive 
criticism  may  be  necessary  ;  but  as  a  rule,  and  espe- 
cially in  the  earlier  stages,  such  criticism  will  destroy 
the  student's  spontaneity  and  perhaps  permanently 
alienate  his  interest  in  the  subject.  So  helpful  is 
the  constructive  criticism  that  students  who  have 


INTRODUCTION  xiii 

had  no  interest  in  public  speaking  and  others  who 
have  not  appeared  to  possess  the  least  talent  for  the 
work  have  become  interesting,  forceful,  and  even 
powerful  speakers. 

Directions  for  voice  culture  and  training  in  gest- 
ure are  purposely  omitted  from  this  book.  Both  of 
these  branches  require  great  care  on  the  part  of  the 
teacher.  If  he  has  had  the  preparation  necessary  to 
give  instruction  in  these,  he  will  not  need  the  advice 
of  the  authors  ;  if  he  has  not,  such  advice  would  be 
as  likely  to  hinder  as  to  assist  him.  Thjs  much,  how- 
ever, may  be  stated :  if  the  method  herein  laid  down 
is  carefully  followed,  voice  and  gesture  will  be  materi- 
ally improved  through  the  expression  of  thought  and 
feeling.  For  instance,  if  a  student's  delivery  is  monot- 
onous, variety  may  be  secured  through  the  study  of 
Moods  and  Colloquial  utterance ;  if  his  voice  is  thin, 
it  may  be  enlarged  by  practice  on  the  extracts  under 
Dignity  and  Elevated  Feeling.  As  for  gestures,  verjr_ 
few  are  necessary  in  public  speaking.  With  a  body 
rendered  responsive  through  exercises  familiar  to 
every  teacher,  it  will  be  found  that  nearly  all  gestures 
will  develop  of  themselves,  through  an  appreciation 
of  the  spirit  of  the  selections  in  this  book.  At  first, 
the  student  should  be  encouraged  to  move  about  and 
to  gesticulate  freely.  Later,  with  the  study  of  Dig- 
nity, the  gestures  will  become  fewer,  more  relevant, 
and  more  significant  Awkwardness  and  repression 
are  generally  signs  of  mental  awkwardness,  and  soon 
disappear  under  the  training  here  suggested.  Care 
should  be  used  in  commenting  on  gesture,  inasmuch 


xiv  INTRODUCTION 

as  too  much  criticism  may  result  in  constricting  th 
action  of  the  pupil,  or  in  making  it  affected. 

A  prolific  source  of  error  in  public  speaking  grow 
>ut  of  the  failure  to  distinguish  between  thought  an< 
(feeling.  Let  the  student  analyze  the  selection  wit] 
a  view  to  discover,  first,  the  thought  of  the  speakei 
and  then,  the  feeling.  I  To  assist  in  the  latter  task  le 
him  continually  ask  himself:  How  did  the  speake 
feel  when  he  said  this  ?  What  effect  did  the  orato 
desire  to  produce  in  his  audience  ?  This  simple  d: 
rection  is  of  far-reaching  consequence  to  the  begin 
ner,  in  that  it  will  lead  him  to  avoid  coldness  on  th 
one  hand,  and  undue  excitement  on  the  other.  Th 
analysis  for  thought  and  feeling  will  also  help  him  t 
avoid  the  very  common  habit  of  emotional  drifting 
which  finds  expression  in  what  is  sometimes  callei 
"  singing."  The  monotone  is  a  legitimate  feature  c 
expression;  but  when  the  motive  which  induced  i 
passes  away,  the  persistence  of  the  monotone  cannc 
but  seriously,  mar  the  orator's  effect.  As  a  rule  it  i 
the  highly  emotional  speaker  who  is  in  the  greateg 
danger  of  falling  into  the  "  singing  "  delivery.  H 
is  so  deeply  moved  by  the  purpose  of  his  address  a 
a  whole,  so  carried  away  by  the  desire  to  convinc 
or  persuade,  that  he  loses  sight  of  fact  and  argi: 
ment,  the  understanding  of  which  would  prepare  hi 
audience  to  agree  with  him  in  feeling  and  in  pui 
pose. 

The  question  is  often  raised,  whether  it  is  bette 
to  begin  the  study  of  oratory  with  original  work  c 
through  the  analysis  and  declamation  of  selection 


INTRODUCTION  XV 

rom  oratorical  masterpieces.  Much  may  be  said 
n  favor  of  the  former  method,  especially  when  ap- 
)lied  to  work  in  colleges  ;  but  the  latter  plan  seems 
o  have  the  advantage.  The  exclusive  use  of  original 
vork  confines  the  student  to  a  narrow  field  of  experi- 
ence, and  emphasizes  too  strongly  his  idiosyncrasies 
n  thought  and  expression  ;  but  a  study  of  the  great 
>rators  will  give  him  a  wider  oratorical  horizon,  and 
end  to  eradicate  objectionable  mannerisms.  By 
•eading  and  declaiming  the  speeches  of  such  men 
is  Chatham,  Burke,  Webster,  and  Clay,  the  student 
s  led  into  oratorical  habits  of  mind  ;  he  is  taught  by 
)ractical  illustration  the  difference  between  the  style 
)f  the  essay  and  that  of  the  oration  ;  and,  best  of  all, 
le  learns  that  true  oratory  does  not  consist  in  "  fine 
vriting,"  but  in  sound  logic,  and  simple,  forceful, 
lonest  expression.  There  is  the  further  reason,  that 
he  student  does  not  have  the  time  to  compose  the 
>riginal  work,  and,  generally,  he  has  not  the  ability 
o  write  in  the  styles  necessary  for  the  development 
)f  his  power  as  a  speaker.  But  he  has  both  time 
ind  ability  to  analyze  and  declaim  the  works  of  the 
nasters.  From  such  study  there  will  come  not  only 
)ower  as  a  speaker,  but  an  awakening  of  those  emo- 
ions  that  are  the  basis  of  genuine  oratorical  style. 
SVhen  such  a  style  has  been  developed,  a  combina- 
ion  of  both  declamation  and  original  work  will  prove 
rery  effective,  especially  when  the  work  in  public 
jpeaking  is  done  in  co-operation  with  the  depart- 
nent  of  rhetoric.  What  has  been  said  above  should 
3e  an  effective  answer  to  those  who  object  to  decla- 


Xvi  INTRODUCTION 

mation  on  the  ground  that  they  do  not  desire  to  be- 
come reciters,  but  orators. 

In  conclusion,  it  may  be  repeated  that  this  book  is 
not  intended  for  an  exhaustive  treatise  on  vocal  ex- 
pression. It  is  prepared  to  supply  the  needs  of  a 
particular  class  of  students  working  under  particular 
circumstances.  Should  it  be  desired  to  pursue  fur- 
ther the  study  of  expression,  to  appreciate  more  fully 
the  philosophy  and  pedagogy  of  the  subject,  a  com- 
plete treatment  will  be  found  in  Chamberlain  and 
Clark's  Principles  of  Vocal  Expression  and  Literary 
Interpretation  (Chicago). 

THE  UNIVERSITY  OP  CHICAGO, 
June  15,  1899. 


part 


THE  FUNDAMENTALS  OF  PUBLIC 
SPEAKING 


CHAPTEE  I 

DIRECTNESS 

THE  first  essential  for  the  public  speaker,  that 
element  which  lies  at  the  basis  of  his  power,  is 
directness.  The  orator  must  talk  to.  his .  audience 
to  convince  them  of  the  truth  of  whdt  'he  has0  tc  say. 
Hence,  the  object  of  the  drill  upon 'the  setecpons  m 
this  chapter  is  to  develop  the  spirit  of  directness. 
Let  the  pupil  express  himself  in  any  way  he  may ; 
let  him  gesticulate  as  freely  and  as  wildly  as  the 
spirit  moves  him  to  do  ;  in  fact,  the  average  student 
may  even  be  encouraged  to  exaggerate  his  action  at 
this  stage ;  but  let  one  purpose  and  one  alone  domi- 
nate :  the  purpose  to  influence  his  audience. 

It  will  be  observed  that  the  selections  present  the 
speaker  as  replying  to  arguments  that  must  be  over- 
thrown. His  whole  heart  is  in  his  theme.  Great 
issues  are  at  stake.  If  the  opinion  of  his  opponents 
should  prevail  it  would  mean  ruin.  The  student 
should  conceive  these  conditions,  and  talk  to  con- 
vince. Practice  of  the  kind  here  prescribed  will 
stimulate  the  imagination,  give  virility  to  the  voice, 
vitalize  the  gestures,  and,  above  all,  free  the  channels 
of  expression. 

Inasmuch  as  this  lesson  will  probably  be  the 

3 


4  PRACTICAL  PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

student's  first  definite  drill  in  expression,  he  may 
feel  awkward,  nervous,  and  self-conscious.  The  class 
as  well  as  the  teacher  may  do  much  to  assist  him ; 
and  their  encouragement  will  soon  create  a  bright, 
cheerful  class-room  atmosphere,  in  which  self-con- 
sciousness will  rapidly  disappear.  Criticism  should 
be  pointed,  brief,  and  stimulating,  and  directed  to 
one  sole  end  :  the  development  of  directness. 


THE  CALL  TO  AEMS 
PATKICK  HENEY 

Richmond,  Va.,  March  28,  1775 

[On  March  20,  1775,  Virginia's  second  Revolutionary  Convention 
met.  Three  days  later,  Patrick  Henry  offered,  in  the  convention,  a 
resolution  that  "  the  Colony  of  Virginia  be  immediately  put  into  a 
posture  of  defence."  Violent  debate  followed,  in  the  midst  of 
which  was  given  the  following  speech,  which  has  been  called  Patrick 
Henry's  individual  declaration  of  war  against  Great  Britain.] 

MB.  PKESIDENT — No  man  thinks  more  highly  than 
I  do  of  the  patriotism,  as  well  as  abilities,  of  the 
very  worthy  gentlemen  who  have  just  addressed  the 
house.  But  different  men  often  see  the  same  sub- 
ject in  different  lights  ;  and,  therefore,  I  hope  it  will 
not  be  thought  disrespectful  to  those  gentlemen,  if, 
entertaining,  as  I  do,  opinions  of  a  character  very 
opposite  to  theirs,  I  shall  speak  forth  my  sentiments 
freely  and  without  reserve.  This  is  no  time  for 
ceremony.  The  question  before  the  house  is  one  of 
awful  moment  to  this  country.  For  my  own  part,  I 
consider  it  as  nothing  less  than  a  question  of  free- 
dom or  slavery ;  and  in  proportion  to  the  magni- 
tude of  the  subject  ought  to  be  the  freedom  of 
the  debate.  It  is  only  in  this  way  that  we  can  hope 
to  arrive  at  truth,  and  fulfil  the  great  responsibil- 
ity which  we  hold  to  God  and  our  country.  Should 
I  keep  back  my  opinions  at  such  a  time,  through 
fear  of  giving  offence,  I  should  consider  myself  as 

5 


6  PRACTICAL  PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

guilty  of  treason  toward  my  country,  and  of  an  act 
of  disloyalty  toward  the  Majesty  of  Heaven,  which 
I  revere  above  all  earthly  kings. 

Mr.  President,  it  is  natural  to  man  to  indulge  in 
the  illusions  of  hope.  We  are  apt  to  shut  our  eyes 
against  a  painful  truth,  and  listen  to  the  song  of  that 
siren,  till  she  transforms  us  into  beasts.  Is  this  the 
part  of  wise  men,  engaged  in  a  great  and  arduous 
struggle  for  liberty  ?  Are  we  disposed  to  be  of  the 
number  of  those,  who,  having  eyes,  see  not,  and  hav- 
ing ears,  hear  not,  the  things  which  so  nearly  con- 
cern their  temporal  salvation  ?  For  my  part,  what- 
ever anguish  of  spirit  it  may  cost,  I  am  willing  to 
know  the  whole  truth  ;  to  know  the  worst,  and  to 
provide  for  it. 

I  have  but  one  lamp  by  which  my  feet  are  guided ; 
and  that  is  the  lamp  of  experience.  I  know  of  no 
way  of  judging  of  the  future  but  by  the  past.  And 
judging  by  the  past,  I  wish  to  know  what  there  has 
been  in  the  conduct  of  the  British  ministry  for  the 
last  ten  years,  to  justify  those  hopes  with  which 
gentlemen  have  been  pleased  to  solace  themselves 
and  the  house  ?  Is  it  that  insidious  smile  with  which 
our  petition  has  been  lately  received  ?  Trust  it  not, 
sir ;  it  will  prove  a  snare  to  your  feet.  Suffer  not 
yourself  to  be  betrayed  with  a  kiss.  Ask  yourselves 
how  this  gracious  reception  of  our  petition  comports 
with  those  warlike  preparations  which  cover  our 
waters  and  darken  our  land.  Are  fleets  and  armies 
necessary  to  a  work  of  love  and  reconciliation? 
Have  we  shown  ourselves  so  unwilling  to  be  recon- 
ciled, that  force  must  be  called  in  to  win  back  our 
love  ?  Let  us  not  deceive  ourselves,  sir.  These  are 
the  implements  of  war  and  subjugation ;  the  last 
arguments  to  which  kings  resort.  I  ask  gentlemen, 


PATRICK   HENEY  7 

sir,  what  means  this  martial  array,  if  its  purpose  be 
not  to  force  us  to  submission?  Can  gentlemen 
assign  any  other  possible  motive  for  it  ?  Has  Great 
Britain  any  enemy,  in  this  quarter  of  the  world,  to 
call  for  all  this  accumulation  of  navies  and  armies  ? 
No,  sir,  she  has  none.  They  are  meant  for  us  :  they 
can  be  meant  for  no  other.  They  are  sent  over  to 
bind  and  rivet  upon  us  those  chains,  which  the  Brit- 
ish ministry  have  been  so  long  forging.  And  what 
have  we  to  oppose  to  them?  Shall  we  try  argu- 
ment ?  Sir,  we  have  been  trying  that  for  the  last  ten 
years.  Have  we  anything  new  to  offer  upon  the 
subject?  Nothing.  We  have  held  the  subject  up  in 
every  light  of  which  it  is  capable ;  but  it  has  been 
all  in  vain.  Shall  we  resort  to  entreaty  and  humble 
supplication?  What  terms  shall  we  find,  which 
have  not  been  already  exhausted  ?  Let  us  not,  I 
beseech  you,  sir,  deceive  ourselves  longer.  Sir,  we 
have  done  everything  that  could  be  done,  to  avert 
the  storm  which  is  now  coming  on.  We  have  peti- 
tioned ;  we  have  remonstrated ;  we  have  supplicated  ; 
we  have  prostrated  ourselves  before  the  throne,  and 
have  implored  its  interposition  to  arrest  the  tyran- 
nical hands  of  the  ministry  and  Parliament.  Our 
petitions  have  been  slighted;  our  remonstrances 
have  produced  additional  violence  and  insult ;  our 
supplications  have  been  disregarded ;  and  we  have 
been  spurned,  with  contempt,  from  the  foot  of  the 
throne!  In  vain,  after  these  things,  may  we  in- 
dulge the  fond  hope  of  peace  and  reconciliation. 
There  is  no  longer  any  room  for  hope.  If  we  wish 
to  be  free — if  we  mean  to  preserve  inviolate  those 
inestimable  privileges  for  which  we  have  been 
so  long  contending — if  we  mean  not  basely  to  aban- 
don the  noble  struggle  in  which  we  have  been  so 


8  PRACTICAL  PUBLIC   SPEAKING- 

long  engaged,  and  which  we  have  pledged  ourselves 
never  to  abandon,  until  the  glorious  object  of  our 
contest  shall  be  obtained — we  must  fight !  I  repeat 
it,  sir,  we  must  fight !  An  appeal  to  arms  and  to 
the  God  of  Hosts  is  all  that  is  left  us ! 

They  tell  us,  sir,  that  we  are  weak ;  unable  to  cope 
with  so  formidable  an  adversary.  But  when  shall 
we  be  stronger  ?  Will  it  be  the  next  week,  or  the 
next  year?  Will  it  be  when  we  are  totally  dis- 
armed, and  when  a  British  guard  shall  be  stationed 
in  every  house  ?  Shall  we  gather  strength  by  irreso- 
lution and  inaction  ?  Shall  we  acquire  the  means 
of  effectual  resistance,  by  lying  supinely  on  our  backs 
and  hugging  the  delusive  phantom  of  hope,  until  our 
enemies  shall  have  bound  us  hand  and  foot  ?  Sir, 
we  are  not  weak,  if  we  make  a  proper  use  of  those 
means  which  the  God  of  nature  hath  placed  in  our 
power.  Three  millions  of  people,  armed  in  the  holy 
cause  of  liberty,  and  in  such  a  country  as  that  which 
we  possess,  are  invincible  by  any  force  which  our 
enemy  can  send  against  us.  Besides,  sir,  we  shall 
not  fight  our  battles  alone.  There  is  a  just  God 
who  presides  over  the  destinies  of  nations,  and  who 
will  raise  up  friends  to  fight  our  battles  for  us. 
The  battle,  sir,  is  not  to  the  strong  alone  ;  it  is  to 
the  vigilant,  the  active,  the  brave.  Besides,  sir,  we 
have  no  election.  If  we  were  base  enough  to  de- 
sire it,  it  is  now  too  late  to  retire  from  the  contest. 
There  is  no  retreat,  but  in  submission  and  slavery  ! 
Our  chains  are  forged!  Their  clanking  may  be 
heard  on  the  plains  of  Boston  !  The  war  is  inevita- 
ble— and  let  it  come  !  I  repeat  it,  sir,  let  it  come ! 

It  is  in  vain,  sir,  to  extenuate  the  matter.  Gentle- 
men may  cry,  Peace,  peace — but  there  is  no  peace. 
The  war  is  actually  begun !  The  next  gale  that 


PATRICK    HENRY  9 

sweeps  from  the  north  will  bring  to  our  ears  the 
clash  of  resounding  arms  !  Our  brethren  are  already 
in  the  field  !  Why  stand  we  here  idle  ?  What  is  it 
that  gentlemen  wish  ?  What  would  they  have  ?  Is 
life  so  dear,  or  peace  so  sweet,  as  to  be  purchased 
at  the  price  of  chains  and  slavery  ?  Forbid  it,  Al- 
mighty God !  I  know  not  what  course  others  may 
take  ;  but  as  for  me,  give  me  liberty  or  give  me 
death ! 


THE  ELOQUENCE   OF  JOHN  ADAMS 
DANIEL  WEBSTEE 

Boston^  August  2,  1826 

THE  eloquence  of  Mr.  Adams  resembled  his  gen- 
eral character,  and  formed,  indeed,  a  part  of  it.  It 
was  bold,  manly,  and  energetic  ;  and  such  the  crisis 
required.  yiVhen  public  bodies  are  to  be  addressed 
on  momentous  occasions,  when  great  interests  are  at 
stake  and  strong  passions  excited,  nothing  is  valua- 
ble, in  speech,  further  than  it  is  connected,  with  high 
intellectual  and  moral  endowments.  (/Clearness, 
force,  and  earnestness  are  the  qualities  which  pro- 
duce conviction.  True  eloquence,  indeed,  does  not 
consist  in  speech.  It  cannot  be  brought  from  far. 
Labor  and  learning  may  toil  for  it  ;  but  they  will 
toil  in  vain.  Words  and  phrases  may  be  marshalled 
in  every  way  ;  but  they  cannot  compass  it.  It  must 
exist  in  the  man,  in  the  subject,  and  in  the  occasion. 
Affected  passion,  intense  expression,  the  pomp  of 
declamation,  all  may  aspire  after  it — they  cannot 
reach  it.  It  comes,  if  it  come  at  all,  like  the  out- 
breaking of  a  fountain  from  the  earth,  or  the  burst- 
ing forth  of  volcanic  fires,  with  spontaneous,  origi- 
nal, native  force. ,;  The  graces  taught  in  the  schools, 
the  costly  ornaments,  and  studied  contrivances  of 
speech,  shock  and  disgust  men,  when  their  own 
lives,  and  the  fate  of  their  wives,  their  children,  and 
their  country,  hang  on  the  decision  of  the  hour. 

10 


DANIEL   WEBSTER  11 

Then,  words  have  lost  their  power,  rhetoric  is  vain, 
and  all  elaborate  oratory  contemptible.  Even  genius 
itself  then  feels  rebuked  and  subdued,  as  in  the 
presence  of  higher  qualities.  Then,  patriotism  is 
eloquent ;  then  self-devotion  is  eloquent.  The  clear 
conception,  outrunning  the  deduction  of  logic,  the 
high  purpose,  the  firm  resolve,  the  dauntless  spirit, 
speaking  on  the  tongue,  beaming  from  the  eye,  in- 
forming every  feature,  and  urging  the  whole  man 
onward,  right  onward,  to  his  object—  this,  this  is 
eloquence  ;  or,  rather,  it  is  something  greater  and 
higher  than  all  eloquence — it  is  action,  noble,  sub- 
lime, godlike  action. 

"In  July,  1776,  the  controversy  had  passed  the 
stage  of  argument.  An  appeal  had  been  made  to 
force,  and  opposing  armies  were  in  the  field.  Con- 
gress then  was  to  decide  whether  the  tie  which  had 
so  long  bound  us  to  the  parent  state,  was  to  be  sev- 
ered at  once,  and  severed  forever.  All  the  colonies 
had  signified  their  resolution  to  abide  by  this  de- 
cision, and  the  people  looked  for  it  with  the  most 
intense  anxiety.  And  surely,  fellow-citizens,  never, 
never  were  men  called  to  a  more  important  political 
deliberation.  If  we  contemplate  it  from  the  point 
where  they  then  stood,  no  question  could  be  more 
full  of  interest ;  if  we  look  at  it  now,  and  judge  of  its 
importance  by  its  effects,  it  appears  in  still  greater 
magnitude. 

Let  us,  then,  bring  before  us  the  assembly,  which 
was  about  to  decide  a  question  thus  big  with  the 
fate  of  empire.  Let  us  open  their  doors  and  look  in 
upon  their  deliberations.  Let  us  survey  the  anxious 
and  care-worn  countenances ;  or,  let  us  hear  the 
firm-toned  voices  of  this  band  of  patriots. 

Hancock  presides  over  this  solemn  sitting ;  and 


12  PRACTICAL  PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

one  of  those  not  yet  prepared  to  pronounce  for  ab- 
solute independence  is  on  the  floor,  and  is  urging 
his  reasons  for  dissenting  from  the  declaration. 

"  Let  us  pause !  This  step,  once  taken,  cannot  be 
retraced.  This  resolution,  once  passed,  will  cut  off 
all  hope  of  reconciliation.  If  success  attend  the 
arms  of  England,  we  shall  then  be  no  longer  colo- 
nies, with  charters,  and  with  privileges.  These  will 
all  be  forfeited  by  this  act ;  and  we  shall  be  in  the 
condition  of  other  conquered  people — at  the  mercy 
of  the  conquerors.  For  ourselves,  we  may  be  ready 
to  run  the  hazard ;  but  are  we  ready  to  carry  the 
country  to  that  length  ? — Is  success  so  probable  as 
to  justify  it?  Where  is  the  military,  where  the 
naval,  power,  by  which  we  are  to  resist  the  whole 
strength  of  the  arm  of  England  ?  for  she  will  exert 
that  strength  to  the  utmost.  Can  we  rely  on  the 
constancy  and  perseverance  of  the  people  ? — or  will 
they  not  act  as  the  people  of  other  countries  have 
acted,  and,  wearied  with  a  long  war,  submit  in  the 
end  to  a  worse  oppression  ?  While  we  stand  on  our 
old  ground,  and  insist  on  redress  of  grievances,  we 
know  we  are  right,  and  are  not  answerable  for  con- 
sequences. Nothing,  then,  can  be  imputable  to  us. 
But  if  we  now  change  our  object,  carry  our  preten- 
sions farther,  and  set  up  for  absolute  independence, 
we  shall  lose  the  sympathy  of  mankind.  We  shall 
no  longer  be  defending  what  we  possess,  but  strug- 
gling for  something  which  we  never  did  possess, 
and  which  we  have  solemnly  and  uniformly  dis- 
claimed all  intention  of  pursuing,  from  the  very 
outset  of  the  troubles.  Abandoning  thus  our  old 
ground  of  resistance  only  to  arbitrary  acts  of  oppres- 
sion, the  nations  will  believe  the  whole  to  have  been 
mere  pretence,  and  they  will  look  on  us,  not  as  in- 


DANIEL   WEBSTER  13 

jured,  but  as  ambitious,  subjects.  I  shudder  before 
this  responsibility.  It  will  be  on  us,  if,  relinquish- 
ing the  ground  we  have  stood  on  so  long,  and  stood 
on  so  safely,  we  now  proclaim  independence,  and 
carry  on  the  war  for  that  object,  while  these  cities 
burn,  these  pleasant  fields  whiten  and  bleach  with 
the  bones  of  their  owners,  and  these  streams  run 
blood.  It  will  be  upon  us,  it  will  be  upon  us,  if 
failing  to  maintain  this  unseasonable  and  ill-judged 
declaration,  a  sterner  despotism,  maintained  by  mil- 
itary power,  shall  be  established  over  our  posterity, 
when  we  ourselves,  given  up  by  an  exhausted,  a 
harassed,  a  misled  people,  shall  have  expiated  our 
rashness  and  atoned  for  our  presumption  on  the 
scaffold." 

It  was  for  Mr.  Adams  to  reply  to  arguments  like 
these.  We  know  his  opinions,  and  we  know  his 
character.  He  would  commence  with  his  accustomed 
directness  and  earnestness. 

"  Sink  or  swim,  live  or  die,  survive  or  perish,  I 
give  my  hand  and  my  heart  to  this  vote.  It  is  true, 
indeed,  that  in  the  beginning  we  aimed  not  at  inde- 
pendence. But  there's  a  divinity  that  shapes  our 
ends.  The  injustice  of  England  has  driven  us  to 
arms ;  and,  blinded  to  her  own  interest,  for  our  good, 
she  has  obstinately  persisted,  till  independence  is 
now  within  our  grasp.  We  have  but  to  reach  forth  to 
it,  and  it  is  ours.  Why,  then,  should  we  defer  the  dec- 
laration ?  Is  any  man  so  weak  as  now  to  hope  for  a 
reconciliation  with  England,  which  shall  leave  either 
safety  to  the  country  and  its  liberties,  or  safety  to 
his  own  life  and  his  own  honor  ?  Are  not  you,  sir, 
who  sit  in  that  chair — is  not  he,  our  venerable  col- 
league near  you — are  you  not  both  already  the  pro- 
scribed and  predestined  objects  of  punishment  and 


14  PRACTICAL  PUBLIC    SPEAKING 

of  vengeance  ?  Cut  off  from  all  hope  of  royal  clem- 
ency, what  are  you,  what  can  you  be,  while  the  pow- 
er of  England  remains,  but  outlaws  ?  If  we  postpone 
independence,  do  we  mean  to  carry  on,  or  to  give 
up,  the  war  ?  Do  we  mean  to  submit  to  the  measures 
of  Parliament,  Boston  port-bill  and  all  ?  Do  we 
mean  to  submit,  and  consent  that  we  ourselves 
shall  be  ground  to  powder,  and  our  country  and  its 
rights  trodden  down  in  the  dust  ?  I  know  we  do  not 
mean  to  submit.  We  never  shall  submit.  Do  we 
intend  to  violate  that  most  solemn  obligation  ever 
entered  into  by  men — that  plighting,  before  God,  of 
our  sacred  honor  to  Washington,  when,  putting  him 
forth  to  incur  the  dangers  of  war,  as  well  as  the  po- 
litical hazards  of  the  times,  we  promised  to  adhere 
to  him  in  every  extremity  with  our  fortunes  and  our 
lives  ?  I  know  there  is  not  a  man  here  who  would 
not  rather  see  a  general  conflagration  sweep  over 
the  land,  or  an  earthquake  sink  it,  than  one  jot  or 
tittle  of  that  plighted  faith  fall  to  the  ground.  For 
myself,  having,  twelve  months  ago,  in  this  place, 
moved  you,  that  George  Washington  be  appointed 
commander  of  the  forces,  raised  or  to  be  raised,  for 
defence  of  American  liberty,  may  my  right  hand  for- 
get her  cunning  and  my  tongue  cleave  to  the  roof 
of  my  mouth,  if  I  hesitate  or  waver  in  the  support 
I  give  him.  The  war,  then,  must  go  on.  We  must 
fight  it  through.  And,  if  the  war  must  go  on,  why 
put  off  longer  the  declaration  of  independence? 
That  measure  will  strengthen  us.  It  will  give  us 
character  abroad.  The  nations  will  then  treat  with 
us,  which  they  never  can  do  while  we  acknowledge 
ourselves  subjects  in  arms  against  our  sovereign. 
Nay,  I  maintain  that  England  herself  will  sooner 
treat  for  peace  with  us  on  the  footing  of  indepen- 


DANIEL   WEBSTER  15 

dence,  than  consent,  by  repealing  her  acts,  to  acknowl 
edge  that  her  whole  conduct  toward  us  has  been  a 
course  of  injustice  and  oppression.  Her  pride  will 
be  less  wounded,  by  submitting  to  that  course  of 
things,  which  now  predestinates  our  independence, 
than  by  yielding  the  points  in  controversy  to  her 
rebellious  subjects.  The  former,  she  would  regard 
as  the  result  of  fortune ;  the  latter,  she  would  feel 
as  her  own  deep  disgrace.  Why,  then— why,  then, 
sir,  do  we  not,  as  soon  as  possible,  change  this  from 
a  civil  to  a  national  war  ?  And,  since  we  must  fight 
it  through,  why  not  put  ourselves  in  a  state  to  enjoy 
all  the  benefits  of  victory,  if  we  gain  the  victory  ? 

"  If  we  fail,  it  can  be  no  worse  for  us.  But  we 
shall  not  fail.  The  cause  will  raise  up  armies  :  the 
cause  will  create  navies.  The  people — the  people, 
if  we  are  true  to  them,  will  carry  us,  and  will  carry 
themselves,  gloriously  through  the  struggle.  I  care 
not  how  fickle  other  people  have  been  found  I 
know  the  people  of  these  colonies,  and  I  know  that 
resistance  to  British  aggression  is  deep  and  settled 
in  their  hearts  and  cannot  be  eradicated.  Every 
colony,  indeed,  has  expressed  its  willingness  to  fol- 
low, if  we  but  take  the  lead.  Sir,  the  declaration 
will  inspire  the  people  with  increased  courage.  In- 
stead of  a  long  and  bloody  war  for  restoration  of 
privileges,  for  redress  of  grievances,  for  chartered 
immunities,  held  under  a  British  king,  set  before 
them  the  glorious  object  of  entire  independence,  and 
it  will  breathe  into  them  anew  the  breath  of  life. 
Read  this  declaration  at  the  head  of  the  army  ;  every 
sword  will  be  drawn  from  its  scabbard,  and  the  sol- 
emn vow  uttered,  to  maintain  it,  or  to  perish  on  the 
bed  of  honor.  Publish  it  from  the  pulpit ;  religion 
will  approve  it,  and  the  love  of  religious  liberty  will 


16  PEAOTICAL  PUBLIC  SPEAKING 

cling-  round  it,  resolved  to  stand  with  it,  or  fall  with 
it.  Send  it  to  the  public  halls ;  proclaim  it  there  ; 
let  them  hear  it,  who  heard  the  first  roar  of  the  en- 
emy's cannon ;  let  them  see  it,  who  saw  their  broth- 
ers and  their  sons  fall  on  the  field  of  Bunker  Hill, 
and  in  the  streets  of  Lexington  and  Concord,  and  the 
very  walls  will  cry  out  in  its  support. 

"  Sir,  I  know  the  uncertainty  of  human  affairs,  but 
I  see,  I  see  clearly,  through  this  day's  business.  You 
and  I,  indeed,  may  rue  it.  We  may  not  live  to  the 
time  when  this  declaration  shall  be  made  good.  We 
may  die ;  die,  colonists ;  die,  slaves ;  die,  it  may  be, 
ignominiously  and  on  the  scaffold.  Be  it  so.  Be 
it  so.  If  it  be  the  pleasure  of  Heaven  that  my 
country  shall  require  the  poor  offering  of  my  life, 
the  victim  shall  be  ready,  at  the  appointed  hour  of 
sacrifice,  come  when  that  hour  may.  But,  while  I 
do  live,  let  me  have  a  country,  or  at  least  the  hope  of 
a  country,  and  that  a  free  country. 

"  But,  whatever  may  be  our  fate,  be  assured,  be  as- 
sured, that  this  declaration  will  stand.  It  may  cost 
treasure,  and  it  may  cost  blood ;  but  it  will  stand, 
and  it  will  richly  compensate  for  both.  Through 
the  thick  gloom  of  the  present  I  see  the  brightness 
of  the  future  as  the  sun  in  heaven.  We  shall  make 
this  a  glorious,  an  immortal  day.  When  we  are 
in  our  graves,  our  children  will  honor  it.  They 
will  celebrate  it  with  thanksgiving,  with  festivity, 
with  bonfires  and  illuminations.  On  its  annual  re- 
turn they  will  shed  tears,  copious,  gushing  tears,  not 
of  subjection  and  slavery,  not  of  agony  and  distress, 
but  of  exultation,  of  gratitude,  and  of  joy.  Sir,  be- 
fore God,  I  believe  the  hour  has  come.  My  judg- 
ment approves  this  measure,  and  my  whole  heart  is 
in  it.  All  that  I  have,  and  all  that  I  am,  and  all  that 


DANIEL   WEBSTER  17 

I  hope,  in  this  life,  I  am  now  ready  here  to  stake 
upon  it ;  and  I  leave  off,  as  I  began,  that,  live  or  die, 
survive  or  perish,  I  am  for  the  declaration.  It  is 
my  living  sentiment,  and,  by  the  blessing  of  God,  it 
shall  be  my  dying  sentiment;  independence  now, 
and  independence  forever." 


SPEECH  ON  A  MOTION  FOE  AN  ADDEESS 
TO   THE  THEONE 

LOED  CHATHAM 

House  of  Lords,  November  S,  1777 

[This  was  the  greatest  effort  of  the  Elder  Pitt.  Though  an  old 
man,  he  seems  filled  with  all  the  fire  of  youth.  A  prominent  critic 
has  said,  "  It  would  be  difficult  to  find  in  the  whole  range  of  parlia- 
mentary history  a  more  splendid  blaze  of  genius,  at  once  rapid, 
vigorous,  and  sublime."] 

I  BISE,  my  Lords,  to  declare  my  sentiments  on  this 
most  solemn  and  serious  subject.  It  has  imposed  a 
load  upon  my  mind,  which,  I  fear,  nothing  can  re- 
move, but  which  impels  me  to  endeavor  its  allevia- 
tion, by  a  free  and  unreserved  communication  of  my 
sentiments. 

In  the  first  part  of  the  address,  I  have  the  honor 
of  heartily  concurring  with  the  noble  Earl  who 
moved  it.  No  man  feels  sincerer  joy  than  I  do ;  none 
can  offer  more  genuine  congratulations  on  every 
accession  of  strength  to  the  Protestant  succession. 
I  therefore  join  in  every  congratulation  on  the  birth 
of  another  princess,  and  the  happy  recovery  of  her 
Majesty. 

But  I  must  stop  here.  My  courtly  complaisance 
will  carry  me  no  farther.  I  will  not  join  in  con- 
gratulation on  misfortune  and  disgrace.  I  cannot 
concur  in  a  blind  and  servile  address,  which  ap- 
proves, and  endeavors  to  sanctify  the  monstrous 

18 


LORD   CHATHAM  19 

measures  which  have  heaped  disgrace  and  mis- 
fortune upon  us.  This,  my  Lords,  is  a  perilous  and 
tremendous  moment !  It  is  not  a  time  for  adulation. 
The  smoothness  of  flattery  cannot  now  avail — can- 
not save  us  in  this  rugged  and  awful  crisis.  It  is 
now  necessary  to  instruct  the  Throne  in  the  lan- 
guage of  truth.  We  must  dispel  the  illusion  and  the 
darkness  which  envelop  it,  and  display,  in  its  full 
danger  and  true  colors,  the  ruin  that  is  brought  to 
our  doors. 

This,  my  Lords,  is  our  duty.  It  is  the  proper 
function  of  this  noble  assembly,  sitting,  as  we  do, 
upon  our  honors  in  this  House,  the  hereditary 
council  of  the  Crown.  Who  is  the  minister — where 
is  the  minister,  that  has  dared  to  suggest  to  the 
Throne  the  contrary,  unconstitutional  language  this 
day  delivered  from  it  ?  The  accustomed  language 
from  the  Throne  has  been  application  to  Parliament 
for  advice,  and  a  reliance  on  its  constitutional  advice 
and  assistance.  As  it  is  the  right  of  Parliament  to 
give,  so  it  is  the  duty  of  the  Crown  to  ask  it.  But 
on  this  day,  and  in  this  extreme  momentous  exi- 
gency, no  reliance  is  reposed  on  our  constitutional 
counsels !  no  advice  is  asked  from  the  sober  and 
enlightened  care  of  Parliament!  but  the  Crown, 
from  itself  and  by  itself,  declares  an  unalterable 
determination  to  pursue  measures — and  what  meas- 
ures, my  Lords  ?  The  measures  that  have  produced 
the  imminent  perils  that  threaten  us  ;  the  measures 
that  have  brought  ruin  to  our  doors. 

Can  the  minister  of  the  day  now  presume  to  ex- 
pect a  continuance  of  support  in  this  ruinous  in- 
fatuation ?  Can  Parliament  be  so  dead  to  its  dignity 
and  its  duty  as  to  be  thus  deluded  into  the  loss  of 
the  one  and  the  violation  of  the  other  ?  To  give 


20  PRACTICAL  PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

an  unlimited  credit  and  support  for  the  steady  per- 
severance in  measures  not  proposed  for  our  parlia- 
mentary advice,  but  dictated  and  forced  upon  us — in 
measures,  I  say,  my  Lords,  which  have  reduced  this 
late  flourishing  empire  to  ruin  and  contempt !  "  But 
yesterday,  and  England  might  have  stood  against 
the  world :  now  none  so  poor  to  do  her  reverence." 1 
I  use  the  words  of  a  poet ;  but,  though  it  be  poetry, 
it  is  no  fiction.  It  is  a  shameful  truth,  that  not  only 
the  power  and  strength  of  this  country  are  wasting 
away  and  expiring,  but  her  well-earned  glories,  her 
true  honor,  and  substantial  dignity  are  sacrificed. 

France,  my  Lords,  has  insulted  you;  she  has 
encouraged  and  sustained  America;  and,  whether 
America  be  wrong  or  right,  the  dignity  of  this  coun- 
try ought  to  spurn  at  the  officious  insult  of  French 
interference.  The  ministers  and  embassadors  of 
those  who  are  called  rebels  and  enemies  are  in 
Paris ;  in  Paris  they  transact  the  reciprocal  interests 
of  America  and  France.  Can  there  be  a  more  mor- 
tifying insult  ?  Can  even  our  ministers  sustain  a 
more  humiliating  disgrace  ?  Do  they  dare  to  resent 
it  ?  Do  they  presume  "even  to  hint  a  vindication  of 
their  honor,  and  the  dignity  of  the  state,  by  requir- 
ing the  dismission  of  the  plenipotentiaries  of  Amer- 
ica ?  Such  is  the  degradation  to  which  they  have 
reduced  the  glories  of  England  !  The  people  whom 
they  affect  to  call  contemptible  rebels,  but  whose 
growing  power  has  at  last  obtained  the  name  of  ene- 
mies ;  the  people  with  whom  they  have  engaged 
this  country  in  war,  and  against  whom  they  now 

1  "  But  yesterday  the  word  of  Caesar  might 

Have  stood  against  the  world  ;  now  lies  he  there, 
And  none  so  poor  to  do  him  reverence." 

—Julius  Ctesar,  Act  III.,  Sc.  6. 


LOED   CHATHAM  21 

command  our  implicit  support  in  every  measure  of 
desperate  hostility — this  people,  despised  as  rebels, 
or  acknowledged  as  enemies,  are  abetted  against 
you,  supplied  with  every  military  store,  their  inter- 
ests consulted,  and  their  embassadors  entertained, 
by  your  inveterate  enemy !  and  our  ministers  dare 
not  interpose  with  dignity  or  effect.  Is  this  the 
honor  of  a  great  kingdom  ?  Is  this  the  indignant 
spirit  of  England,  who,  "  but  yesterday  "  gave  law 
to  the  house  of  Bourbon  ? 

My  Lords,  this  ruinous  and  ignominious  situation, 
where  we  cannot  act  with  success,  nor  suffer  with 
honor,  calls  upon  us  to  remonstrate  in  the  strongest 
and  loudest  language  of  truth,  to  rescue  the  ear  of 
majesty  from  the  delusions  which  surround  it.  The 
desperate  state  of  our  arms  abroad  is  in  part  known. 
No  man  thinks  more  highly  of  them  than  I  do.  I 
love  and  honor  the  English  troops.  I  know  their 
virtues  and  their  valor.  I  know  they  can  achieve 
anything  except  impossibilities  ;  and  I  know  that 
the  conquest  of  English  America  is  an  impossibility. 
You  cannot,  I  venture  to  say  it,  you  cannot  conquer 
America.  What  is  your  present  situation  there? 
We  do  not  know  the  worst ;  but  we  know  that  in 
three  campaigns  we  have  done  nothing  and  suffered 
much.  You  may  swell  every  expense  and  every  ef- 
fort still  more  extravagantly ;  pile  and  accumulate 
every  assistance  you  can  buy  or  borrow  ;  traffic  and 
barter  with  every  little  pitiful  German  prince  that 
sells  and  sends  his  subjects  to  the  shambles  of  a  for- 
eign prince  ;  your  efforts  are  forever  vain  and  impo- 
tent— doubly  so  from  this  mercenary  aid  on  which 
you  rely  ;  for  it  irritates,  to  an  incurable  resentment, 
the  minds  of  your  enemies,  to  overrun  them  with  the 
mercenary  sons  of  rapine  and  plunder,  devoting 


22  PRACTICAL  PUBLIC  SPEAKING 

them  and  their  possessions  to  the  rapacity  of  hire- 
ling cruelty !  If  I  were  an  American,  as  I  am  an 
Englishman,  while  a  foreign  troop  was  landed  in  my 
country,  I  never  would  lay  down  my  arms — never — 
never — never ! 

But,  my  Lords,  who  is  the  man  that,  in  addition 
to  these  disgraces  and  mischiefs  of  our  army,  has 
dared  to  authorize  and  associate  to  our  arms  the 
tomahawk  and  scalping-knife  of  the  savage  ?  to  call 
into  civilized  alliance  the  wild  and  inhuman  savage 
of  the  woods ;  to  delegate  to  the  merciless  Indian 
the  defence  of  disputed  rights,  and  to  wage  the  hor- 
rors of  his  barbarous  war  against  our  brethren  ?  My 
Lords,  these  enormities  cry  aloud  for  redress  and 
punishment.  Unless  thoroughly  done  away,  it  will 
be  a  stain  on  the  national  character.  It  is  a  viola- 
tion of  the  Constitution.  I  believe  it  is  against  law. 

You  cannot  conciliate  America  by  your  present 
measures.  You  cannot  subdue  her  by  your  present 
or  by  any  measures.  What,  then,  can  you  do  ?  You 
cannot  conquer ;  you  cannot  gain  ;  but  you  can  ad- 
dress ;  you  can  lull  the  fears  and  anxieties  of  the 
moment  into  an  ignorance  of  the  danger  that  should 
produce  them.  But,  my  Lords,  the  time  demands 
the  language  of  truth.  We  must  not  now  apply  the 
flattering  unction  of  servile  compliance  or  blind 
complaisance.  In  a  just  and  necessary  war,  to  main- 
tain the  rights  or  honor  of  my  country,  I  would  strip 
the  shirt  from  my  back  to  support  it.  But  in  such  a 
war  as  this,  unjust  in  its  principle,  impracticable  in 
its  means,  and  ruinous  in  its  consequences,  I  would 
not  contribute  a  single  effort  nor  a  single  shilling. 
I  do  not  call  for  vengeance  on  the  heads  of  those 
who  have  been  guilty ;  I  only  recommend  to  them 
to  make  their  retreat.  Let  them  walk  off ;  and  let 


LORD   CHATHAM  23 

them  make  haste,  or  they  may  be  assured  that  speedy 
and  condign  punishment  will  overtake  them. 

My  Lords,  I  have  submitted  to  you,  with  the  free- 
dom and  truth  which  I  think  my  duty,  my  sentiments 
on  your  present  awful  situation.  I  have  laid  before 
you  the  ruin  of  your  power,  the  disgrace  of  your 
reputation,  the  pollution  of  your  discipline,  the  con- 
tamination of  your  morals,  the  complication  of  ca- 
lamities, foreign  and  domestic,  that  overwhelm  your 
sinking  country.  Your  dearest  interests,  your  own 
liberties,  the  Constitution  itself,  totters  to  the  foun- 
dation. All  this  disgraceful  danger,  this  multitude 
of  misery,  is  the  monstrous  offspring  of  this  unnat- 
ural war.  We  have  been  deceived  and  deluded  too 
long.  Let  us  now  stop  short.  This  is  the  crisis — 
the  only  crisis l  of  time  and  situation,  to  give  us  a 
possibility  of  escape  from  the  fatal  effects  of  our  de- 
lusions. But  if,  in  an  obstinate  and  infatuated  per- 
severance in  folly,  we  slavishly  echo  the  peremptory 
words  this  day  presented  to  us,  nothing  can  save 
this  devoted  country  from  complete  and  final  ruin. 
We  madly  rush  into  multiplied  miseries  and  "  con- 
fusion worse  confounded." 

Is  it  possible,  can  it  be  believed,  that  ministers 
are  yet  blind  to  this  impending  destruction  ?  I  did 
hope,  that  instead  of  this  false  and  empty  vanity, 
this  overweening  pride,  engendering  high  conceits 
and  presumptuous  imaginations,  ministers  would 

1  It  cannot  hare  escaped  observation,  says  Chapman,  with  what 
urgent  anxiety  the  noble  speaker  has  pressed  this  point  throughout 
his  speech ;  the  critical  necessity  of  instantly  treating  with  Amer- 
ica. But  the  warning  voice  was  heard  in  vain;  the  address  tri- 
umphed; Parliament  adjourned:  ministers  enjoyed  the  festive 
recess  of  a  long  Christmas,  and  America  ratified  her  alliance  with 
France. 


24  PEACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

have  humbled  themselves  in  their  errors,  would  have 
confessed  and  retracted  them,  and  by  an  active, 
though  a  late  repentance,  have  endeavored  to  re- 
deem them.  But,  my  Lords,  since  they  had  neither 
sagacity  to  foresee,  nor  justice  nor  humanity  to  shun 
these  oppressive  calamities — since  not  even  severe 
experience  can  make  them  feel,  nor  the  imminent 
ruin  of  their  country  awaken  them  from  their  stupe- 
faction, the  guardian  care  of  Parliament  must  inter- 
pose. I  shall,  therefore,  my  Lords,  propose  to  you 
an  amendment  of  the  address  to  his  Majesty,  to  be 
inserted  immediately  after  the  two  first  paragraphs 
of  congratulation  on  the  birth  of  a  princess,  to  rec- 
ommend an  immediate  cessation  of  hostilities,  and 
the  commencement  of  a  treaty  to  restore  peace  and 
liberty  to  America,  strength  and  happiness  to  Eng- 
land, security  and  permanent  prosperity  to  both 
countries.  This,  my  Lords,  is  yet  in  our  power ; 
and  let  not  the  wisdom  and  justice  of  your  Lord- 
ships neglect  the  happy,  and,  perhaps,  the  only  op- 
portunity. By  the  establishment  of  irrevocable  law, 
founded  on  mutual  rights  and  ascertained  by  treaty, 
these  glorious  enjo3^ments  may  be  firmly  perpetu- 
ated. And  let  me  repeat  to  your  Lordships,  that 
the  strong  bias  of  America,  at  least  of  the  wise  and 
sounder  parts  of  it,  naturally  inclines  to  this  happy 
and  constitutional  reconnection  with  you. 

My  Lords,  to  encourage  and  confirm  that  innate 
inclination  to  this  country,  founded  on  every  prin- 
ciple of  affection,  as  well  as  consideration  of  inter- 
est ;  to  restore  that  favorable  disposition  into  a  per- 
manent and  powerful  reunion  with  this  country  ;  to 
revive  the  mutual  strength  of  the  empire  ;  again  to 
awe  the  house  of  Bourbon,  instead  of  meanly  truck- 
ling, as  our  present  calamities  compel  us,  to  every 


LOKD   CHATHAM  25 

insult  of  French  caprice  and  Spanish  punctilio  ;  to 
re-establish  our  commerce;  to  reassert  our  rights 
and  our  honor ;  to  confirm  our  interests  and  renew 
our  glories  forever — a  consummation  most  devoutly 
to  be  endeavored !  and  which,  I  trust,  may  yet  arise 
from  reconciliation  with  America — I  have  the  honor 
of  submitting  to  you  the  following  amendment, 
which  I  move  to  be  inserted  after  the  two  first  para- 
graphs of  the  address : 

"  And  that  this  House  does  most  humbly  advise 
and  supplicate  his  Majesty  to  be  pleased  to  cause 
the  most  speedy  and  effectual  measures  to  be  taken 
for  restoring  peace  in  America ;  and  that  no  time 
may  be  lost  in  proposing  an  immediate  cessation  of 
hostilities  there,  in  order  to  the  opening  of  a  treaty 
for  the  final  settlement  of  the  tranquillity  of  these 
invaluable  provinces,  by  a  removal  of  the  unhappy 
causes  of  this  ruinous  civil  war,  and  by  a  just  and 
adequate  security  against  the  return  of  the  like  ca- 
lamities in  times  to  come.  And  this  House  desire 
to  offer  the  most  dutiful  assurances  to  his  Majesty, 
that  they  will,  in  due  time,  cheerfully  co-operate 
with  the  magnanimity  and  tender  goodness  of  his 
Majesty,  for  the  preservation  of  his  people,  by  such 
explicit  and  most  solemn  declarations,  and  provi- 
sions of  fundamental  and  irrevocable  laws,  as  may  be 
judged  necessary  for  the  ascertaining  and  fixing 
forever  the  respective  rights  of  Great  Britain  and 
her  colonies." 

[In  the  course  of  this  debate,  Lord  Suffolk,  secre- 
tary for  the  northern  department,  undertook  to  de- 
fend the  employment  of  the  Indians  in  the  war.  His 
Lordship  contended  that,  besides  its  policy  and  ne- 
cessityr,  the  measure  was  also  allowable  on  principle  ; 
for  that  "  it  was  perfectly  justifiable  to  use  all  the 
means  that  God  and  nature  put  into  our  hands  !  "] 


26  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

I  am  astonished  !  [exclaimed  Lord  Chatham,  as  he 
rose]  shocked !  to  hear  such  principles  confessed — 
to  hear  them  avowed  in  this  House,  or  in  this  coun- 
try: principles  equally  unconstitutional,  inhuman, 
and  unchristian ! 

My  Lords,  I  did  not  intend  to  have  encroached 
again  upon  your  attention,  but  I  cannot  repress  my 
indignation.  I  feel  myself  impelled  by  every  duty. 
My  Lords,  we  are  called  upon  as  members  of  this 
House,  as  men,  as  Christian  men,  to  protest  against 
such  notions  standing  near  the  Throne,  polluting 
the  ear  of  Majesty.  "  That  God  and  nature  put  into 
our  hands !  "  I  know  not  what  ideas  that  Lord  may 
entertain  of  God  and  nature,  but  I  know  that  such 
abominable  principles  are  equally  abhorrent  to  re- 
ligion and  humanity.  What !  to  attribute  the  sacred 
sanction  of  God  and  nature  to  the  massacres  of  the 
Indian  scalping-knife — to  the  cannibal  savage  tort- 
uring, murdering,  roasting,  and  eating — literally, 
my  Lords,  eating  the  mangled  victims  of  his  barbar- 
ous battles !  Such  horrible  notions  shock  every 
precept  of  religion,  divine  or  natural,  and  every 
generous  feeling  of  humanity.  And,  my  Lords,  they 
shock  every  sentiment  of  honor ;  they  shock  me  as 
a  lover  of  honorable  war,  and  a  detester  of  murder- 
ous barbarity. 

These  abominable  principles,  and  this  more  abom- 
inable avowal  of  them,  demand  the  most  decisive 
indignation.  I  call  upon  that  right  reverend  bench, 
those  holy  ministers  of  the  Gospel,  and  pious  pas- 
tors of  our  Church — I  conjure  them  to  join  in  the 
holy  work,  and  vindicate  the  religion  of  their  God. 
I  appeal  to  the  wisdom  and  the  law  of  this  learned 
bench,  to  defend  and  support  the  justice  of  their 
country.  I  call  upon  the  Bishops  to  interpose  the 


LORD   CHATHAM  27 

unsullied  sanctity  of  their  lawn ;  upon  the  learned 
Judges,  to  interpose  the  purity  of  their  ermine,  to 
save  us  from  this  pollution.  I  call  upon  the  honor 
of  your  Lordships,  to  reverence  the  dignity  of  your 
ancestors  and  to  maintain  your  own.  I  call  upon 
the  spirit  and  humanity  of  my  country,  to  vindicate 
the  national  character.  I  invoke  the  genius  of  the 
Constitution.  From  the  tapestry  that  adorns  these 
walls  the  immortal  ancestor  of  this  noble  Lord 
frowns  with  indignation  at  the  disgrace  of  his  coun- 
try.1 In  vain  he  led  your  victorious  fleets  against 
the  boasted  Armada  of  Spain ;  in  vain  he  defended 
and  established  the  honor,  the  liberties,  the  religion 
—the  Protestant  religion — of  this  country,  against 
the  arbitrary  cruelties  of  popery  and  the  Inquisi- 
tion, if  these  more  than  popish  cruelties  and  inquisi- 
torial practices  are  let  loose  among  us — to  turn  forth 
into  our  settlements,  among  our  ancient  connec- 
tions, friends,  and  relations,  the  merciless  cannibal, 
thirsting  for  the  blood  of  man,  woman,  and  child ! 
to  send  forth  the  infidel  savage — against  whom  ? 
against  your  Protestant  brethren  ;  to  lay  waste  their 
country,  to  desolate  their  dwellings,  and  extirpate 
their  race  and  name  with  these  horrible  hell-hounds 
of  savage  war — hell-hounds,  I  say,  of  savage  war  ! 
Spain  armed  herself  with  blood-hounds  to  extirpate 
the  wretched  natives  of  America,  and  we  improve 
on  the  inhuman  example  even  of  Spanish  cruelty  ; 
we  turn  loose  these  savage  hell-hounds  against  our 
brethren  and  countrymen  in  America,  of  the  same 
language,  laws,  liberties,  and  religion,  endeared  to 
us  by  every  tie  that  should  sanctify  humanity. 

1  The  tapestry  of  the  House  of  Lords  represented  the  English 
fleet  led  by  the  ship  of  the  lord-admiral,  Eftiiigham  Howard  (ancei- 
tor  of  Suffolk),  to  engage  the  Spanish  Armada. 


28  PRACTICAL  PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

My  Lords,  this  awful  subject,  so  important  to  our 
honor,  our  Constitution,  and  our  religion,  demands 
the  most  solemn  and  effectual  inquiry.  And  I  again 
call  upon  your  Lordships,  and  the  united  powers  of 
the  state,  to  examine  it  thoroughly  and  decisively, 
and  to  stamp  upon  it  an  indelible  stigma  of  the  pub- 
lic abhorrence.  And  I  again  implore  those  holy 
prelates  of  our  religion  to  do  away  these  iniquities 
from  among  us.  Let  them  perform  a  lustration; 
let  them  purify  this  House,  and  this  country,  from 
this  sin. 

My  Lords,  I  am  old  and  weak,  and  at  present  un- 
able to  say  more ;  but  my  feelings  and  indignation 
were  too  strong  to  have  said  less.  I  could  not  have 
slept  this  night  in  my  bed,  nor  reposed  my  head  on 
my  pillow,  without  giving  this  vent  to  my  eternal 
abhorrence  of  such  preposterous  and  enormous 
principles. 


AMERICA'S  DUTY  TO  GREECE 
HENKY  CLAY 

U".  S.  House  of  Representatives,  January  23^  1824 

[On  December  8,  1824,  Daniel  Webster  submitted  for  considera- 
tion the  following : 

Resolved,  That  provision  ought  to  be  made,  by  law,  for  defraying 
the  expense  incident  to  the  appointment  of  an  agent,  or  commis- 
sioner, to  Greece,  whenever  the  President  shall  deem  it  expedient 
to  make  such  appointment. 

In  the  debate  that  ensued,  Mr.  Clay  expressed  himself,  in  part, 
as  follows :] 

ME.  CHAIRMAN — The  resolution  proposed  provid- 
ing the  means  to  defray  the  expense  of  a  mission, 
whenever  the  President,  who  knows,  or  ought  to 
know,  the  dispositions  of  all  the  European  Powers, 
Turkish  or  Christian,  shall  deem  it  proper  to  send 
one.  The  amendment  goes  to  withhold  any  appro- 
priation, and  to  make  a  public  declaration  of  our 
sympathy  with  the  Greeks,  and  our  good  wishes  for 
their  cause.  And  how,  sir,  has  this  simple,  modest, 
unpretending,  this  harmless  proposition  been  treat- 
ed ?  It  has  been  argued,  as  if  it  proposed  aid  to  the 
Greeks ;  as  if  it  proposed  the  recognition  of  their 
government ;  as  an  act  of  unjustifiable  interference ; 
as  a  measure  of  war.  And  those  who  thus  argue  the 
question,  while  they  themselves  give  unbounded 
range  to  their  imagination,  in  conceiving  and  setting 
in  array  the  monstrous  consequences  which  are  to 


30  PRACTICAL  PUBLIC    SPEAKING 

grow  out  of  so  simple  a  proposal,  impute  to  us  who 
are  its  advocates,  Quixotism !  Quixotism !  While 
they  are  taking1  the  most  extravagant  and  unlimited 
range,  and  arguing  anything  and  everything  but  the 
question  before  the  House,  they  accuse  us  of  enthu- 
siasm, of  giving  the  reins  to  feeling,  of  being  carried 
away  by  our  imagination.  No,  sir,  the  proposition 
on  your  table  is  no  proposition  for  aid,  nor  for  recog- 
nition, nor  for  interference,  nor  for  war. 

It  has  been  said  that  the  proposed  measure  will  be 
a  departure  from  our  uniform  policy  with  respect  to 
foreign  nations — that  it  will  provoke  the  ire  of  the 
Holy  Alliance — and  will,  in  effect,  be  a  repetition  of 
their  offence,  by  an  unwarrantable  interference  with 
the  domestic  concerns  of  other  Powers. 

If  gentlemen  are  afraid  to  act  rashly  on  such  a 
subject,  suppose,  Mr.  Chairman,  that  we  draw  an 
humble  petition  addressed  to  their  majesties,  asking 
them  that  of  their  condescension  they  would  allow  us 
to  express  something  on  the  subject.  How,  sir,  shall 
it  begin  ?  "  We,  the  Representatives  of  the  free 
people  of  the  United  States  of  America,  humbly  ap- 
proach the  Thrones  of  your  Imperial  and  Royal 
Majesties,  and  supplicate  that  of  your  Imperial  and 
Royal  clemency  " — I  will  not  go  through  the  disgust- 
ing recital ;  my  lips  have  not  yet  learned  the  syco- 
phantic language  of  a  degraded  slave. 

Are  we  so  low,  so  base,  so  despicable,  that  we  may 
not  express  our  horror,  articulate  our  detestation, 
of  the  most  brutal  and  atrocious  war  that  ever 
stained  earth,  or  shocked  high  heaven,  with  the 
ferocious  deeds  of  a  brutal  soldierly,  set  on  by  the 
clergy  and  followers  of  a  fanatical  and  inimical 
religion,  rioting  in  excess  of  blood  and  butchery,  at 
the  mere  details  of  which  the  heart  sickens  ?  If  the 


HENRY  CLAY  31 

great  mass  of  Christendom  can  look  coolly  and  calmly 
on,  while  all  this  is  perpetrated  on  a  Christian  peo- 
ple, in  their  own  vicinity,  in  their  very  presence,  let 
us,  at  least,  show  that,  in  this  distant  extremity, 
there  is  still  some  sensibility  and  sympathy  for 
Christian  wrongs  and  sufferings  ;  that  there  are  still 
feelings  which  can  kindle  into  indignation  at  the 
oppression  of  a  people  endeared  to  us  by  every 
ancient  recollection  and  every  modern  tie. 

But,  sir,  it  is  not  first  and  chiefly  for  Greece  that 
I  wish  to  see  this  measure  adopted.  It  will  give 
her  but  little  aid,  and  that  aid  purely  of  a  moral 
kind.  It  is,  indeed,  soothing  and  solacing,  in  dis- 
tress, to  hear  the  accents  of  a  friendly  voice.  We 
know  this  as  a  people.  But,  sir,  it  is  principally 
and  mainly  for  America  herself,  for  the  credit  and 
character  of  our  common  country,  that  I  hope  to  see 
this  resolution  pass ;  it  is  for  our  own  unsullied 
name  that  I  feel. 

What  appearance,  sir,  on  the  page  of  history, 
would  a  record  like  this  make :  "  In  the  month  of 
January,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  1824, 
while  all  European  Christendom  beheld,  with  cold, 
unfeeling  apathy,  the  unexampled  wrongs  and  inex- 
pressible misery  of  Christian  Greece,  a  proposition 
was  made  in  the  Congress  of  the  United  States — 
almost  the  sole,  the  last,  the  greatest  repository  of 
human  hope  and  of  human  freedom,  the  representa- 
tives of  a  nation  capable  of  bringing  into  the  field 
a  million  of  bayonets — while  the  freemen  of  that 
nation  were  spontaneously  expressing  its  deep- 
toned  feeling,  its  fervent  prayer,  for  Grecian  success  ; 
while  the  whole  continent  was  rising,  by  one  simul- 
taneous motion,  solemnly  and  anxiously  supplicat- 
ing and  invoking  the  aid  of  heaven  to  spare  Greece, 


32  PRACTICAL  PUBLIC  SPEAKING 

and  to  invigorate  her  arms:  while  temples  and 
senate-houses  were  all  resounding  with  one  burst  of 
generous  sympathy ;  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  and 
Saviour, — that  Saviour  alike  of  Christian  Greece  and 
of  us, — a  proposition  was  offered  in  the  American 
Congress  to  send  a  messenger  to  Greece,  to  inquire 
into  her  state  and  condition,  with  an  expression  of 
our  good  wishes  and  our  sympathies, — and  it  was 
rejected ! " 

Go  home,  if  you  dare, — go  home,  if  you  can, — to 
your  constituents,  and  tell  them  that  you  voted  it 
down!  Meet,  if  you  dare,  the  appalling  counte- 
nances of  those  who  sent  you  here,  and  tell  them  that 
you  shrank  from  the  declaration  of  your  own  senti- 
ments ;  that,  you  cannot  tell  how,  but  that  some 
unknown  dread,  some  indescribable  apprehension, 
some  indefinable  danger,  affrighted  you ;  that  the 
spectres  of  cimeters,  and  crowns  and  crescents, 
gleamed  before  you,  and  alarmed  you  ;  and  that  you 
suppressed  all  the  noble  feelings  prompted  by 
religion,  by  liberality,  by  national  independence, 
and  by  humanity  !  I  cannot  bring  myself  to  believe 
that  such  will  be  the  feeling  of  a  majority  of  this 
House.  But  for  myself,  though  every  friend  of  the 
measure  should  desert  it,  and  I  be  left  to  stand 
alone,  with  the  gentleman  from  Massachusetts,  I 
would  give  to  the  resolution  the  poor  sanction  of  my 
unqualified  approbation. 


CHAPTER  H 

EARNESTNESS 

BY    earnestness    is  meant    enthusiasm  for  one's 
theme :   not  mere  sound  and  fury,  but  a   surrender  [ 
of  self  to  the  emotions  growing  out  of  the  subject. ' 
Earnestness,  therefore,  is  closely  associated  with  di- 
rectness :  for  the  earnest  speaker  is  very  likely  to  be 
direct,  and  directness  will  often  beget  earnestness. 
We  must  note,  however,  that  mere  feeling  is  not  nec- 
essarily earnestness  in  the  sense  in  which  it  is  used 
here  ;  nor  is  the  earnest  speaker  always  direct  in  his 
presentation. 

In  the  previous  exercises  the  object  was  attained 
if  the  student's  delivery  became  direct,  regardless  of 
the  fact  that  he  may  have  been  relatively  cold  on  the 
one  hand,  or  violently  demonstrative  on  the  other. 
But  now  it  is  for  the  student  to  recognize  that  his 
theme  is  of  more  importance  than  himself ;  to  en- 
deavor to  let  the  truth  he  has  to  present  sink  in  of 
its  own  weight  rather  than  to  drive  it  home  by  phys- 
ical force,  as  if  it  must  be  accepted  because  lie  ut- 
tered it,  instead  of  for  its  own  sake.  The  truth  is  to  be 
stated  not  with  shrill  voice,  violent  headshakings  and 
pounding  gestures,  but  strongly,  positively,  and  with 


34  PRACTICAL  PUBLIC   SPEAKIJsLG 

the  self-control  growing  out  of  the  conviction  that  it 
must  prevail. 

Very  few  speakers,  especially  those  of  strong  con- 
victions, appreciate  the  value  of  eliminating  them- 
selves from  their  delivery.  Emerson  has  told  us  of 
the  value  of  under-statement  in  controversial  writ- 
ings. May  we  not  apply  his  advice  to  the  manner  of 
public  speaking  ?  An  audience  will  frequently  refuse 
to  act  upon  the  advice  of  an  orator,  even  if  he  speaks 
the  truth,  because  his  presentation  has  the  effect  of 
a  command.  His  personality  steps  in  between  his 
theme  and  the  audience.  On  the  other  hand,  with- 
out in  any  way  descending  from  his  level  as  teacher, 
and  with  arguments  as  strong  as  he  can  make  them, 
he  may  often  win  the  hearts  and  approval  of  his 
hearers  simply  through  enthusiasm  for  his  theme. 
His  manner  should  not  say,  "  You  must  do  this  be- 
cause /  command  it "  ;  but,  "  Should  we  not  do  this 
because  it  is  right?  " 

Experience  has  shown  that  the  average  student  is 
most  deficient  in  the  realm  of  earnestness.  Through 
lack  of  imagination  or  undue  repression  he  seems  to 
have  difficulty  in  infusing  passion,  feeling,  into  the 
rendition  of  the  words  of  another.  He  should  there- 
fore be  urged  to  lay  particular  stress  upon  the  selec- 
tions in  this  chapter  and  to  endeavor  to  fill  them 
with  at  least  an  approximation  of  the  author's  feel- 
ings. 


AFFAIRS  IN  CUBA 
JOHN  M.  THUESTON 

United  States  Senate,  March  24,  1898 

I  AM  here  by  command  of  silent  lips '  to  speak  once 
and  for  all  upon  the  Cuban  situation.  I  shall  en- 
deavor to  be  honest,  conservative,  and  just.  I  have 
no  purpose  to  stir  the  public  passion  to  any  action 
not  necessary  and  imperative  to  meet  the  duties 
and  necessities  of  American  responsibility,  Christian 
humanity,  and  national  honor.  I  would  shirk  this 
task  if  I  could,  but  I  dare  not.  I  can  not  satisfy  my 
conscience  except  by  speaking,  and  speaking  now. 

I  went  to  Cuba^firmly  believingj  that  the  condition 
of  affairs  there.had  been  greatly  exaggerated  by  the 
press,  and  my  own  effortsf,were  directed  in  the  first 
instance  to  the  attempted  exposurejof  these  sup- 
posed exaggerations.  There  has  undoubtedly  beenf 
much  sensationalisnijin  the  journalism  of  the  time, 
but  as  to  the  condition  of  affairs  in  Cuba  ,there  has 
been  no  exaggeration,  j  because  exaggeration  has 
been  impossible. 

Under  the  inhuman  policy  of  Weyler,not  less  than 
400,000*  self-supporting,  simple,  peaceable,  defence- 
less country  people  were  driven  from  their  homes,  in 
the  agricultural  portions^  of  the  Spanish  provinces 
to  the  cities,  .and  imprisoned  upon  the  barren  waste| 
outside  the  Tesidence  portions  tof  these  cities  fand 
within  the  lines  of  intrenchmentjestablished  a  little 

1  Mrs.  Thurston  died  in  Cuba.  Her  last  request  was  that  her 
husband  should  do  his  utmost  to  secure  intervention. 

35 


36  PEACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

way  beyond.  Their  humble  homes  were  burned, 
their  fields  laid  waste,  their  implements  of  hus- 
bandry destroyed,  their  live  stock  and  food  supplies 
for  the  most  part  tconfiscated.  Moot  of  the  people 
W£>VA  o\i\  rn^j  wornon,  —  and  rrfriMrfrn.  —  Siiey  were 
thus 


there  with  nothing  to  depend  upon.exce'pt  the  scanty 
charity  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  citiesfand  with  slow 
starvation,  their  inevitable  fate.  H- 

The  pictures  in  the  American  newspapers  of  the 
starving  reconcentrados  are  true.  They  can  all  be 
duplicated  by  the  thousands.  I  never  saw,  and 
please  God  I  may  never  again  see,  so  deplorable  a 
sight  as  the  reconcentrados  in  the  suburbs  of  Matan- 
zas.  I  can  never  forget  to  my  dying  day  the  hope- 
less anguish  in  their  despairing  eyes.  Huddled 
about  their  little  bark  huts,  they  raised  no  voice  of 
appeal  to  us  for  alms  as  we  went  among  them. 
Their  only  appeal  came  from  their  sad  eyes,  through 
which  one  looks  as  through  an  open  window  into 
their  agonizing  souls. 

The  Government  of  Spain  has  not  and  will  not 
appropriate  one  dollar  to  save  these  people.  They 
are  now  being  attended,  and  nursed,  and  adminis- 
tered to  by  the  charity  of  the  United  States.  Think 
of  the  spectacle  !  We  are  feeding  these  citizens  of 
Spain  ;  we  are  nursing  their  sick  ;  we  are  saving 
such  as  can  be  saved,  and  yet  there  are  those  who 
still  say  it  is  right  for  us  to  send  food,  but  we  must 
keep  hands  off.  I  say  that  the  time  has  come  when 
muskets  must  go  with  the  food.  We  asked  the  gov- 
ernor if  he  knew  of  any  relief  for  these  people  ex- 
cept through  the  charity  of  the  United  States.  He 


JOHN   M.    THUESTON  37 

did  not.  We  asked  him,  "  When  do  you  think  the 
time  will  come  that  these  people  can  be  placed  in  a 
position  of  self-support  ?  "  He  replied  to  us,  with 
deep  feeling-,  "  Only  the  good  God  or  the  great  Gov- 
ernment of  the  United  States  can  answer  that  ques- 
tion." I  hope  and  believe  that  the  good  God  by 
the  great  Government  of  the  United  States  will 
answer  that  question. 

shall  refer  to  these  horrible  things  no  further. 
They  are  there.  God  pity  me  ;  I  have  seen  them ; 
they  will  remain  in  my  mind  forever — and  this  is 
almost  the  twentieth  century.  Christ  died  nineteen 
hundred  years  ago,  and  Spain  is  a  Christian  nation. 
She  has  set  up  more  crosses  in  more  lands,  beneath 
more  skies,  and  under  them  has  butchered  more 
people  than  all  the  other  nations  of  the  earth  com- 
bined. Europe  may  tolerate  her  existence  ^  as  long 
as  the  people  of  the  Old  World  wish.  God  grant 
that  before  another  Christmas  morningf  the  last  ves- 
tige of  Spanish  tyranny  and  oppression  (will  have 

vanished  from  the  Western  Hemisphere. 

I  counselled  silence  and  moderation  from  this  floor 
when  the  passion  of  the  nation  seemed  at  white  heat 
over  the  destruction  of  the  Maine ;  but  it  seems  to 
me  the  time  for  action  has  now  come.  No  greater 
reason  for  it  can  exist  to-morrow  than  exists  to-day. 
Every  hour's  delay  only  adds  another  chapter  to  the 
awful  story  of  misery  and  death.  Only  one  power 
can  intervene — the  United  States  of  America.  Ours 
is  the  one  great  nation  of  the  New  World,  the  mother 
of  American  republics.  She  holds  a  position  of 
trust  and  responsibility  toward  the  peoples  and 
affairs  of  the  whole  Western  Hemisphere.  It  was 
her  glorious  example  which  inspired  the  patriots  of 
Cuba  to  raise  the  flag  of  liberty  in  her  eternal  hills. 


38  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

We  cannot  refuse  to  accept  this  responsibility  which 
the  God  of  the  universe  has  placed  upon  us  as  the 
one  great  power  in  the  New  World.  We  must  act ! 
What  shall  our  action  be  ?  Some  say,  The  acknowl- 
edgment of  the  belligerency  of  the  revolutionists. 
The  hour  and  the  opportunity  for  that  have  passed 
away.  Others  say,  Let  us  by  resolution  or  official 
proclamation  recognize  the  independence  of  the 
Cubans.  It  is  too  late  for  even  such  recognition  to 
be  of  great  avail.  Others  say,  Annexation  to  the 
United  States.  God  forbid !  I  would  oppose  an- 
nexation with  my  latest  breath.  The  people  of  Cuba 
are  not  our  people  ;  they  cannot  assimilate  with  us ; 
and  beyond  all  that,  I  am  utterly  and  unalterably 
opposed  to  any  departure  from  the  declared  policy 
of  the  fathers,  which  would  start  this  republic  for 
the  first  time  upon  a  career  of  conquest  and  domin- 
ion utterly  at  variance  with  the  avowed  purposes 
and  the  manifest  destiny  of  popular  government. 

There  is  only  one  action  possible,  if  any  is  taken ; 
that  is,  intervention  for  the  independence  of  the 
island.  Against  the  intervention  of  the  United 
States  in  this  holy  cause  there  is  but  one  voice  of 
dissent ;  that  voice  is  the  voice  of  the  money-changers. 
They  fear  war !  Not  because  of  any  Christian  or  en- 
nobling sentiment  against  war  and  in  favor  of  peace, 
but  because  they  fear  that  a  declaration  of  war,  or 
the  intervention  which  might  result  in  war,  would 
have  a  depressing  effect  upon  the  stock  market.  Let 
them  go.  They  do  not  represent  American  senti- 
ment ;  they  do  not  represent  American  patriotism. 
Let  them  take  their  chances  as  they  can.  Their 
weal  or  woe  is  of  but  little  importance  to  the  liberty- 
loving  people  of  the  United  States.  They  will  not 
do  the  fighting ;  their  blood  will  not  flow ;  they 


JOHN   M.    THURSTON  39 

will  keep  on  dealing-  in  options  on  human  life.  Let 
the  men  whose  loyalty  is  to  the  dollar  stand  aside 
while  the  men  whose  loyalty  is  to  the  flag  come  to 
the  front. 

There  are  those  who  say  that  the  affairs  of  Cuba 
are  not  the  affairs  of  the  United  States  ;  who  insist 
that  we  can  stand  idly  by  and  see  that  island  de- 
vastated and  depopulated,  its  business  interests 
destroyed,  its  commercial  intercourse  with  us  cut 
off,  its  people  starved,  degraded,  and  enslaved.  It 
may  be  the  naked  legal  right  of  the  United  States 
to  stand  thus  idly  by.  I  have  the  legal  right  to 
pass  along  the  street  and  see  a  helpless  dog  stamped 
into  the  earth  under  the  heels  of  a  ruffian.  I  can 
pass  by  and  say,  that  is  not  my  dog.  I  can  sit  in 
my  comfortable  parlor,  and  through  my  plate-glass 
window  see  a  fiend  outraging  a  helpless  woman  near 
by,  and  I  can  legally  say,  this  is  no  affair  of  mine — 
it  is  not  happening  on  my  premises.  But  if  I  do,  I 
am  a  coward  and  a  cur,  unfit  to  live,  and,  God  knows, 
unfit  to  die. 

And  yet  I  cannot  protect  the  dog  nor  save  the 
woman  without  the  exercise  of  force.  We  cannot 
intervene  and  save  Cuba  without  the  exercise  of 
force,  and  force  means  war ;  war  means  blood.  The 
lowly  Nazarene  on  the  shores  of  Galilee  preached 
the  divine  doctrine  of  love,  "  Peace  on  earth,  good 
will  toward  men."  Not  peace  on  earth  at  the  ex- 
pense of  liberty  and  humanity.  Not  good  will  to- 
ward men  who  despoil,  enslave,  degrade,  and  starve 
to  death  their  fellow-men.  I  believe  in  the  doctrine 
of  Christ.  I  believe  in  the  dcfctrine  of  peace ;  but 
men  must  have  liberty  before  there  can  come  abid- 
ing peace.  When  has  a  battle  for  humanity  and 
liberty  ever  been  won  except  by  force  ?  What  barri- 


40  PRACTICAL  PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

cade  of  wrong,  injustice,  and  oppression  has  evei 
been  carried  except  by  force  ? 

Force  compelled  the  signature  of  unwilling  royalty 
to  the  great  Magna  Charta ;  force  put  life  into  the 
Declaration  of  Independence  and  made  effective  the 
Emancipation  Proclamation ;  force  waved  the  flag 
of  revolution  over  Bunker  Hill  and  marked  the 
snows  of  Valley  Forge  with  blood-stained  feet ; 
force  held  the  broken  line  of  Shiloh,  climbed  the 
flame-swept  hill  at  Chattanooga,  and  stormed  the 
clouds  on  Lookout  Heights ;  force  marched  with 
Sherman  to  the  sea,  rode  with  Sheridan  in  the 
Valley  of  the  Shenandoah,  and  gave  Grant  victory 
at  Appomattox;  force  saved  the  Union,  kept  the 
stars  in  the  flag,  made  "  niggars  "  men.  The  time 
for  God's  force  has  come  again.  Let  the  impassioned 
lips  of  American  patriots  once  more  take  up  the 
song: 

In  the  beauty  of  the  lilies  Christ  was  born  across  the  sea, 
With  a  glory  in  His  bosom  that  transfigured  you  and  me. 
As  He  died  to  make  men  holy,  let  us  die  to  make  men  free, 
For  God  is  marching  on. 

Others  may  hesitate,  others  may  procrastinate, 
others  may  plead  for  further  diplomatic  negotiation, 
which  means  delay,  but  for  me,  I  am  ready  to  act 
now,  and  for  my  action  I  am  ready  to  answer  to  my 
conscience,  my  country,  and  my  God. 


AGAINST  CENTRALIZATION 
HENEY  W.  GKADY 

The  University  of  Fa.,  June  25,  1889 

THE  unmistakable  danger  that  threatens  free  gov- 
ernment in  America,  is  the  increasing  tendency  to 
concentrate  in  the  Federal  government,  powers  and 
privileges  that  should  be  left  with  the  States,  and  to 
create  powers  that  neither  the  State  nor  Federal 
government  should  have. 

It  is  not  strange  that  there  should  be  a  tendency 
to  centralization  in  our  government.  This  disposi- 
tion was  the  legacy  of  the  war.  Steam  and  elec- 
tricity have  emphasized  it  by  bringing  the  people 
closer  together.  The  splendor  of  a  central  govern- 
ment dazzles  the  unthinking ;  its  opulence  tempts 
the  poor  and  the  avaricious ;  its  strength  assures 
the  rich  and  the  timid ;  its  patronage  incites  the 
spoilsmen,  and  its  powers  inflame  the  partisan. 

Concurrent  with  this  political  drift  is  another 
movement,  less  formal,  perhaps,  but  not  less  danger- 
ous :  the  consolidation  of  capital.  The  world  has 
not  seen,  nor  has  the  mind  of  man  conceived  of  such 
miraculous  wealth-gathering  as  is  an  every-day  tale 
to  us.  The  seeds  of  a  luxury  that  even  now  sur- 
passes that  of  Borne  or  Corinth,  and  has  only  yet 
put  forth  its  first  flowers,  are  sown  in  this  simple 
Kepublic.  What  shall  the  full  fruitage  be?  The 
youngest  nation,  America,  is  vastly  the  richest,  and 

41 


42  PRACTICAL  PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

in  twenty  years,  in  spite  of  war,  has  nearly  trebled 
her  wealth.  Millions  are  made  on  the  turn  of  a 
trade,  and  the  toppling  mass  grows  and  grows, 
while  in  its  shadow  starvation  and  despair  stalk 
among  the  people,  and  swarm  with  increasing  leg- 
ions against  the  citadels  of  human  life. 

But  the  abuse  of  this  amazing  power  of  consolidated 
wealth  is  its  bitterest  result  and  its  pressing  danger. 
When  the  agent  of  a  dozen  men  who  have  captured 
and  who  control  an  article  of  prime  necessity,  meets 
the  representatives  of  a  million  farmers  from  whom 
they  have  forced  $3,000,000  the  year  before,  with  no 
more  moral  right  than  is  behind  the  highway  man 
who  halts  the  traveller  at  the  pistol's  point,  and 
insolently  gives  them  the  measure  of  this  year's 
rapacity,  and  tells  them — men  who  live  in  the  sweat 
of  their  brows,  and  stand  between  God  and  Nature — 
that  they  must  submit  to  the  infamy  because  they  are 
helpless — then  the  first  fruits  of  this  system  are 
gathered  and  have  turned  to  ashes  on  the  lips.  When 
a  dozen  men  get  together  in  the  morning  and  fix  the 
price  of  a  dozen  articles  of  common  use — with  no 
standard  but  their  arbitrary  will,  and  no  limit  but 
their  greed  or  daring — and  then  notify  the  sovereign 
people  of  this  free  Republic  how  much,  in  the  mercy 
of  their  masters,  they  shall  pay  for  the  necessaries  of 
life — then  the  point  of  intolerable  shame  has  been 
reached. 

We  have  read  of  the  robber  barons  of  the  Rhine, 
who  from  their  castles  sent  a  shot  across  the  bow  of 
every  passing  craft,  and  descending  as  hawks  from  the 
crags,  tore  and  robbed  and  plundered  the  voyagers 
until  their  greed  was  glutted,  or  the  strength  of  their 
victims  spent.  Shall  this  shame  of  Europe  against 
which  the  world  revolted,  shall  it  be  repeated  in  this 


HENRY   W.    GKADY  43 

free  country  ?  And  yet,  when  a  syndicate  or  a  trust 
can  arbitrarily  add  twenty-five  per  cent,  to  the  cost 
of  a  single  article  of  common  use,  and  safely  gather 
forced  tribute  from  the  people,  until  from  its  surplus 
it  could  buy  every  castle  on  the  Ehine — where  is  the 
difference,  save  that  the  castle  is  changed  to  a 
broker's  office,  and  the  picturesque  river  to  the 
teeming  streets  and  the  broad  fields  of  this  govern- 
ment "of  the  people,  by  the  people,  and  for  the 
people  "  ? 

Let  it  be  noted  that  the  alliance  between  those 
who  would  centralize  the  government  and  the  con- 
solidated money  power  is  not  only  close  but  essen- 
tial. The  one  is  the  necessity  of  the  other.  Estab- 
lish the  money  power  and  there  is  universal  clamor 
for  strong  government.  The  weak  will  demand  it 
for  protection  against  the  people  restless  under  op- 
pression ;  the  patriotic,  for  protection  against  the 
plutocracy  that  scourges  and  robs  ;  the  corrupt, 
hoping  to  buy  of  one  central  body  distant  from  local 
influences  what  they  could  not  buy  from  the  legislat- 
ures of  the  States  sitting  at  their  homes.  Thus,  hand 
in  hand,  will  walk — as  they  have  always  walked — 
the  federalist  and  the  capitalist,  the  centralist  and 
the  monopolist ;  the  strong  government  protecting 
the  money  power,  and  the  money  power  the  politi- 
cal standing  army  of  the  government. 

Against  this  tendency  who  shall  protest  ?  Those 
that  believe  that  this  vast  Republic,  with  its  diverse 
interests  and  its  local  needs,  can  better  be  governed 
by  liberty  and  enlightenment  diffused  among  the 
people  than  by  powers  and  privileges  congested  at 
the  centre  ;  those  who  believe  that  the  States  should 
do  nothing  that  the  people  can  do  themselves,  and 
the  government  nothing  that  the  States  and  the 


44  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

people  can  do ;  those  who  believe  that  the  wealth  of 
the  central  government  is  a  crime  rather  than  a  virt- 
ue, and  that  every  dollar  not  needed  for  its  econom- 
ical administration  should  be  left  with  the  people  of 
the  States  ;  those  who  believe  that  the  hearthstone 
of  the  home  is  the  true  altar  of  liberty,  and  the  en- 
lightened conscience  of  the  citizen  the  best  guaran- 
tee of  government.  Those  of  you  who  note  the  far- 
mer sending  his  sons  to  the  city  that  they  may  escape 
the  unequal  burdens  under  which  he  has  labored, 
thus  diminishing  the  rural  population  whose  leisure, 
integrity,  and  deliberation  have  corrected  the  passion 
and  impulse  and  corruption  of  the  cities  ;  who  note 
that  while  the  rich  are  growing  richer,  and  the  poor 
poorer,  we  are  lessening  that  great  middle  class  that, 
ever  since  it  met  the  returning  crusaders  in  England 
with  the  demand  that  the  hut  of  the  humble  should 
be  as  sacred  as  the  castle  of  the  great,  has  been  the 
bulwark  and  glory  of  every  English-speaking  com- 
munity— you  who  know  these  things  protest  with  all 
the  earnestness  of  your  soul  against  the  policy  and 
the  methods  that  make  them  possible. 

What  is  the  remedy  ?  To  exalt  the  hearthstone  ; 
to  strengthen  the  home  ;  to  build  up  the  individual ; 
to  magnify  and  defend  the  principle  of  local  self- 
Government.  Not  in  deprecation  of  the  Federal 
government,  but  to  its  glory ;  not  to  weaken  the 
Republic,  but  to  strengthen  it ;  not  to  check  the  rich 
blood  that  flows  to  its  heart,  but  to  send  it  full  and 
wholesome  from  healthy  members  rather  than  from 
withered  and  diseased  extremities. 

The  germ  of  the  best  patriotism  is  in  the  love  that 
a  man  has  for  the  home  he  inhabits,  for  the  soil  he 
tills,  for  the  trees  that  give  him  shade,  and  the  hills 
that  stand  in  his  pathway.  The  love  of  home — deep 


HENRY   W.    GRADY  45 

rooted  and  abiding- — lodged  in  the  heart  of  the  citi- 
zen, is  the  saving  principle  of  our  government. 

This  love  shall  not  be  pent  up  or  provincial.  The 
home  should  be  consecrated  to  humanity,  and  from 
its  roof-tree  should  fly  the  flag  of  the  Republic. 
Every  simple  fruit  gathered  there,  every  sacrifice 
endured,  and  every  victory  won,  should  bring  better 
joy  and  inspiration  in  the  knowledge  that  it  will 
deepen  the  glory  of  our  Republic  and  widen  the 
harvest  of  humanity. 

Let  it  be  understood  that  I  am  no  pessimist  as  to 
this  Eepublic.  I  know  that  my  country  has  reached 
the  point  of  perilous  greatness,  and  that  strange 
forces  not  to  be  measured  or  comprehended  are 
hurrying  her  to  heights  that  dazzle  and  blind  all 
mortal  eyes  ;  but  I  know  that  beyond  the  uttermost 
glory  is  enthroned  the  Lord  God  Almighty,  and  that 
when  the  hour  of  her  trial  has  come  He  will  lift  up 
His  everlasting  gates  and  bend  down  above  her  in 
mercy  and  in  love.  For  with  her  He  has  surely 
lodged  the  ark  of  His  covenant  with  the  sons  of 
men.  Emerson  wisely  said,  "  Our  whole  history 
looks  like  the  last  effort  by  Divine  Providence  in 
behalf  of  the  human  race."  And  the  Eepublic  will 
endure.  Centralism  will  be  checked,  and  liberty 
saved  —  plutocracy  overthrown  and  equality  re- 
stored. 

The  trend  of  the  times  is  with  us.  The  world 
moves  steadily  from  gloom  to  brightness.  And 
bending  down  humbly  as  Elisha  did,  and  praying 
that  my  eyes  shall  be  made  to  see,  I  catch  the  vision 
of  this  Eepublic — its  mighty  forces  in  balance,  and 
its  unspeakable  glory  falling  on  all  its  children  ; 
chief  among  the  federation  of  English-speaking 
people  ;  plenty  streaming  from  its  borders,  and  light 


46  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

from  its  mountain  tops — working  out  its  mission 
under  God's  approving1  eye,  until  the  dark  conti- 
nents are  open,  and  the  highways  of  earth  estab- 
lished,  and  the  shadows  lifted,  and  the  jargons  of 
the  nations  stilled,  and  the  perplexities  of  Babel 
straightened — and  under  one  language,  one  liberty, 
and  one  God,  all  the  nations  of  the  world  hearken- 
ing to  the  American  drum-beats,  and  girding  up 
their  loins,  shall  march  amid  the  breaking  of  the 
millennial  dawn  into  the  paths  of  righteousness  and 
peace ! 


SPEECH  ON  THE  WAR  OF  1812 
HENKY  CLAY 

United  States  House  of  Representatives,  January  5,  1813 

[This  speech  was  delivered  during  the  debate  on  a  bill  proposing 
that  twenty  thousand  men  should  be  added  to  the  existing  military 
establishment. 

American  Orations  (New  York  :  1896)  contains  the  following  in 
teresting  note  :  "  When  Clay  came  to  Congress  in  1811  he  became 
immediately  the  recognized  leader  of  the  war  party  in  the  House, 
and  as  Speaker  he  organized  the  committees  to  promote  the  war 
policy.  It  was  Clay's  leadership  which  hastened  the  war.  Madison 
was  timid  and  desired  to  avoid  war  as  long  as  possible ;  he  was 
urged  and  forced  into  the  war  by  the  more  radical  young  Republi- 
cans from  the  West  and  South,  like  Clay  and  Calhoun,  .  .  . 
This  speech  of  Clay  was  especially  in  reply  to  Quincy,  who  had 
made  a  strong  speech  in  opposition  to  the  war."] 

SIR — gentlemen  appear  to  me  to  forget  that  they 
stand  on  American  soil;  that  they  are  not  in  the 
British  House  of  Commons,  but  in  the  chamber  of 
the  House  of  Representatives  of  the  United  States  ; 
that  we  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  affairs  of 
Europe,  the  partition  of  territory  and  sovereignty 
there,  except  so  far  as  these  things  affect  the  in- 
terests of  our  own  country.  Gentlemen  transform 
themselves  into  the  Burkes,  Chathams,  and  Pitts,  of 
another  country,  and,  forgetting,  from  honest  zeal, 
the  interests  of  America,  engage  with  European 
sensibility  in  the  discussion  of  European  interests. 
If  gentlemen  ask  whether  I  do  not  view  with  regret 

47 


48  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

and  horror  the  concentration  of  such  vast  power  in 
the  hands  of  Bonaparte,  I  reply  that  I  do.  I  regret 
to  see  the  Emperor  of  China  holding  such  an  im- 
mense sway  over  the  fortunes  of  millions  of  our 
species.  I  regret  to  see  Great  Britain  possessing 
so  uncontrolled  a  command  over  all  the  waters  of 
the  globe.  If  I  had  the  ability  to  distribute  among 
the  nations  of  Europe  their  several  portions  of 
power  and  of  sovereignty,  I  would  say  that  Holland 
should  be  resuscitated  and  given  the  weight  she 
enjoyed  in  the  days  of  her  De  Witts.  I  would  con- 
fine France  within  her  natural  boundaries,  the  Alps, 
Pyrenees,  and  the  Rhine,  and  make  her  a  secondary 
naval  power  only.  I  would  abridge  the  British 
maritime  power,  raise  Prussia  and  Austria  to  their 
original  condition,  and  preserve  the  integrity  of  the 
Empire  of  Russia.  But  these  are  speculations.  I 
look  at  the  political  transactions  of  Europe,  with 
the  single  exception  of  their  possible  bearing  upon 
us,  as  I  do  at  the  history  of  other  countries  and 
other  times-  I  do  not  survey  them  with  half  the 
interest  that  I  do  the  movements  in  South  America. 
Our  political  relation  with  them  is  much  less  im- 
portant than  it  is  supposed  to  be.  I  have  no  fears 
of  French  or  English  subjugation.  If  we  are  united 
we  are  too  powerful  for  the  mightiest  nation  in 
Europe  or  all  Europe  combined.  If  we  are  sepa- 
rated and  torn  asunder,  we  shall  become  an  easy 
prey  to  the  weakest  of  them.  In  the  latter  dreadful 
contingency  our  country  will  not  be  worth  preserv- 
ing. 

Next  to  the  notice  which  the  opposition  has 
found  itself  called  upon  to  bestow  upon  the  French 
Emperor,  a  distinguished  citizen  of  Virginia,  for- 
merly President  of  the  United  States,  has  never  for 


HENRY   CLAY  49 

a  moment  failed  to  receive  their  kindest  and  most 
respectful  attention.  An  honorable  gentleman  from 
Massachusetts  [Mr.  Quincy],  of  whom,  I  am  sorry  to 
say,  it  becomes  necessary  for  me,  in  the  course  of 
my  remarks,  to  take  some  notice,  has  alluded  to  him 
in  a  remarkable  manner.  Neither  his  retirement 
from  public  office,  his  eminent  services,  nor  his 
advanced  age,  can  exempt  this  patriot  from  the 
coarse  assaults  of  party  malevolence.  No,  sir.  In 
1801  he  snatched  from  the  rude  hand  of  usurpation 
the  violated  Constitution  of  his  country,  and  that 
is  his  crime.  He  preserved  that  instrument,  in  form, 
and  substance,  and  spirit,  a  precious  inheritance  for 
generations  to  come,  and  for  this  he  can  never  be 
forgiven.  How  vain  and  impotent  is  party  rage, 
directed  against  such  a  man.  He  is  not  more  ele- 
vated by  his  lofty  residence,  upon  the  summit  of 
his  own  favorite  mountain,  than  he  is  lifted,  by  the 
serenity  of  his  mind,  and  the  consciousness  of  a 
well-spent  life,  above  the  malignant  passions  and 
bitter  feelings  of  the  day.  No !  his  own  beloved 
Monticello  is  not  less  moved  by  the  storms  that  beat 
against  its  sides  than  is  this  illustrious  man  by  the 
howlings  of  the  whole  British  pack,  set  loose  from 
the  Essex  kennel.  When  the  gentleman  to  whom  I 
have  been  compelled  to  allude  shall  have  mingled 
his  dust  with  that  of  his  abused  ancestors,  when  he 
shall  have  been  consigned  to  oblivion,  or,  if  he  lives 
at  all,  shall  live  only  in  the  treasonable  annals  of  a 
certain  junto,  the  name  of  Jefferson  will  be  hailed 
with  gratitude,  his  memory  honored  and  cherished 
as  the  second  founder  of  the  liberties  of  the  people, 
and  the  period  of  his  administration  will  be  looked 
back  to  as  one  of  the  happiest  and  brightest  epochs 
of  American  history ;  an  oasis  in  the  midst  of  a 


50  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

sandy  desert.  But  I  beg  the  gentleman's  pardon  ; 
he  has  already  secured  to  himself  a  more  imperish- 
able fame  than  I  had  supposed ;  I  think  it  was 
about  four  years  ago  that  he  submitted  to  the  House 
of  Representatives  an  initiative  proposition  for  the 
impeachment  of  Mr.  Jefferson?  The  House  con- 
descended to  consider  it.  The  gentleman  debated 
it  with  his  usual  temper,  moderation,  and  urbanity. 
The  House  decided  upon  it  in  the  most  solemn 
manner,  and,  although  the  gentleman  had  somehow 
obtained  a  second,  the  final  vote  stood  one  for, 
and  one  hundred  and  seventeen  against,  the  prop- 
osition. 

But,  sir,  I  must  speak  of  another  subject,  which  I 
never  think  of  but  with  feelings  of  the  deepest  awe. 
The  gentleman  from  Massachusetts,  in  imitation  of 
some  of  his  predecessors  of  1799,  has  entertained  us 
with  a  picture  of  cabinet  plots,  presidential  plots, 
and  all  sorts  of  plots,  which  have  been  engendered 
by  the  diseased  state  of  the  gentleman's  imagina- 
tion. I  wish,  sir,  that  another  plot,  of  a  much  more 
serious  and  alarming  character— a  plot  that  aims  at 
the  dismemberment  of  our  Union — had  only  the 
same  imaginary  existence.  But  no  man,  who  has 
paid  any  attention  to  the  tone  of  certain  prints  and 
to  transactions  in  a  particular  quarter  of  the  Union, 
for  several  years  past,  can  doubt  the  existence  of 
such  a  plot.  It  was  far,  very  far  from  my  intention 
to  charge  the  opposition  with  such  a  design.  No,  I 
believe  them  generally  incapable  of  it.  But  I  can- 
not say  as  much  for  some  who  have  been  unworthily 
associated  with  them  in  the  quarter  of  the  Union  to 
which  I  have  referred.  The  gentleman  cannot  have 
forgotten  his  own  sentiment,  uttered  even  on  the  floor 
of  this  House,  "  peaceably  if  we  can,  forcibly  if  we 


HENRY   CLAY  51 

must,"  nearly  at  the  very  time  when  Henry's  mission 
was  undertaken.  The  flagitiousness  of  that  embassy 
had  been  attempted  to  be  concealed  by  directing  the 
public  attention  to  the  price  which,  the  gentleman 
says,  was  given  for  the  disclosure.  As  if  any  price 
could  change  the  atrociousness  of  the  attempt  on 
the  part  of  Great  Britain,  or  could  extenuate  in  the 
slightest  degree  the  offence  of  those  citizens  who 
entertained  and  deliberated  on  a  proposition  so  in- 
famous and  unnatural.  But,  sir,  I  will  quit  this 
unpleasant  subject. 

The  war  was  declared  because  Great  Britain  arro- 
gated to  herself  the  pretension  to  regulate  our  for- 
eign trade,  under  the  delusive  name  of  retaliatory 
orders  in  council— a  pretension  by  which  she  under- 
took to  proclaim  to  American  enterprise,  "  thus  far 
shalt  thou  go,  and  no  further  " — orders  which  she 
refused  to  revoke  after  the  alleged  cause  of  their 
enactment  had  ceased ;  because  she  persisted  in  the 
practice  of  impressing  American  seamen;  because 
she  had  instigated  the  Indians  to  commit  hostilities 
against  us  ;  and  because  she  refused  indemnity  for 
her  past  injuries  upon  our  commerce.  I  throw  out 
of  the  question  other  wrongs.  So  undeniable  were 
the  causes  of  the  war,  so  powerfully  did  they  ad- 
dress themselves  to  the  feelings  of  the  whole  Amer- 
ican people,  that  when  the  bill  was  pending  before 
this  House,  gentlemen  in  the  opposition,  although 
provoked  to  debate,  would  not,  or  could  not,  utter 
one  syllable  against  it.  It  is  true,  they  wrapped 
themselves  up  in  sullen  silence,  pretending  they  did 
not  choose  to  debate  such  a  question  in  secret  ses- 
sion. While  speaking  of  the  proceedings  on  that 
occasion,  I  beg  to  be  permitted  to  avert  to  another 
fact  which  transpired — an  important  fact,  material 


52  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC  SPEAKING 

for  the  nation  to  know,  and  which  I  have  often  re- 
gretted  had  not  been  spread  upon  our  journals.  My 
honorable  colleague  [Mr.  McKee]  moved,  in  commit- 
tee of  the  whole,  to  comprehend  France  in  the  war  ; 
and  when  the  question  was  taken  upon  the  proposi- 
tion, there  appeared  but  ten  votes  in  support  of  it, 
of  whom  seven  belonged  to  this  side  of  the  house, 
and  three  only  to  the  other. 

It  is  not  to  the  British  principle  (of  allegiance), 
objectionable  as  it  is,  that  we  are  alone  to  look ;  it  is 
to  her  practice,  no  matter  what  guise  she  puts  on. 
It  is  in  vain  to  assert  the  inviolability  of  the  obliga- 
tion of  allegiance.  It  is  in  vain  to  set  up  the  plea 
of  necessity,  and  to  allege  that  she  cannot  exist 
without  the  impressment  of  HEE  seamen.  The 
naked  truth  is,  she  comes,  by  her  press-gangs,  on 
board  of  our  vessels,  seizes  OUR  native  as  well  as 
naturalized  seamen,  and  drags  them  into  her  service. 
It  is  the  case,  then,  of  the  assertion  of  an  erroneous 
principle — a  principle  which,  if  it  were  theoretically 
right,  must  be  forever  practically  wrong — a  practice 
which  can  obtain  countenance  from  no  principle 
whatever,  and  to  submit  to  which,  on  our  part,  would 
botray  the  most  abject  degradation.  We  are  told 
by  gentlemen  in  the  opposition,  that  the  Government 
has  not  done  all  that  was  incumbent  on  it  to  do,  to 
avoid  just  cause  of  complaint  on  the  part  of  Great 
Britain ;  that  in  particular  the  certificates  of  protec- 
tion, authorized  by  the  act  of  1796,  are  fraudulently 
used.  Sir,  Government  has  done  too  much  in  grant- 
ing those  paper  protections.  I  can  never  think  of 
them  without  being  shocked.  They  resemble  the 
passes  which  the  master  grants  to  his  negro  slave : 
"  Let  the  bearer,  Mungo,  pass  and  rep  ass  without 
molestation."  What  do  they  imply?  That  Great 


HENRY   CLAY  63 

Britain  has  a  right  to  seize  all  who  are  not  provided 
with  them.  From  their  very  nature,  they  must  be 
liable  to  abuse  on  both  sides.  If  Great  Britain  de- 
sires a  mark,  by  which  she  can  know  her  own  sub- 
jects, let  her  give  them  an  ear-mark.  The  colors 
that  float  from  the  mast-head  should  be  the  creden- 
tials of  our  seamen.  There  is  no  safety  to  us,  and 
the  gentlemen  have  shown  it,  but  in  the  rule  that  all 
who  sail  under  the  flag  (not  being  enemies),  are  pro- 
tected by  the  flag.  It  is  impossible  that  this  coun- 
try should  ever  abandon  the  gallant  tars  who  have 
won  for  us  such  splendid  trophies.  Let  me  suppose 
that  the  genius  of  Columbia  should  visit  one  of  them 
in  his  oppressor's  prison,  and  attempt  to  reconcile 
him  to  his  forlorn  and  wretched  condition.  She 
would  say  to  him,  in  the  language  of  gentlemen  on 
the  other  side :  "  Great  Britain  intends  you  no 
harm  ;  she  did  not  mean  to  impress  you,  but  one  of 
her  own  subjects ;  having  taken  you  by  mistake,  I 
will  remonstrate,  and  try  to  prevail  upon  her,  by 
peaceable  means,  to  release  you ;  but  I  cannot,  my 
son,  fight  for  you."  If  he  did  not  consider  this  mere 
mockery,  the  poor  tar  would  address  her  judgment 
and  say :  "  You  owe  me,  my  country,  protection  ;  I 
owe  you,  in  return,  obedience.  I  am  no  British 
subject ;  I  am  a  native  of  old  Massachusetts,  where 
lived  my  aged  father,  my  wife,  my  children.  I  have 
faithfully  discharged  my  duty.  Will  you  refuse  to 
do  yours  ?  "  Appealing  to  her  passions,  he  would 
continue  :  "  I  lost  this  eye  in  fighting  under  Trux- 
ton,  with  the  Insurgente  ;  I  got  this  scar  before  Trip- 
oli ;  I  broke  this  leg  on  board  the  Constitution,  when 
the  Guerriere  struck."  I  will  not  imagine  the  dread- 
ful catastrophe  to  which  he  would  be  driven  by  an 
abandonment  of  him  to  his  oppressor.  It  will  not 


54  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

be,  it  cannot  be,  that  his  country  will  refuse  him 
protection. 

An  honorable  peace  is  attainable  only  by  an  effi- 
cient war.  My  plan  would  be  to  call  out  the  ample 
resources  of  the  country,  give  them  a  judicious 
direction,  prosecute  the  war  with  the  utmost  vigor, 
strike  wherever  we  can  reach  the  enemy,  at  sea  or 
on  land,  and  negotiate  the  terms  of  peace  at  Quebec 
or  at  Halifax.  We  are  told  that  England  is  a  proud 
and  lofty  nation,  which,  disdaining  to  wait  for  dan- 
ger meets  it  half  way.  Haughty  as  she  is  we  tri- 
umphed over  her  once,  and,  if  we  do  not  listen  to 
the  counsels  of  timidity  and  despair,  we  shall  again 
prevail.  In  such  a  cause,  with  the  aid  of  Providence, 
we  must  come  out  crowned  with  success  ;  but,  if  we 
fail,  let  us  fail  like  men,  lash  ourselves  to  our 'gal- 
lant tars,  and  expire  together  in  one  common  strug- 
gle, fighting  for  FREE  TRADE  AND  SEAMEN'S  BIGHTS. 


IMPEACHMENT   OF  WARREN  HASTINGS 
EDMUND  BUKKE 

House  of  Lords,  February  13,  1788 

[Mr.  Burke  regarded  Warren  Hastings  as  the  responsible  author 
of  nearly  all  the  calamities  of  India.  On  May  10,  1787,  Mr.  Burke 
went  to  the  bar  of  the  House  of  Lords,  and  there  impeached  Warren 
Hastings  of  high  crimes  and  misdemeanors.  The  trial  began  Feb- 
ruary 13,  1788,  and  Mr.  Burke  opened  the  case  in  a  speech  which 
lasted  four  days,  and  which  has  been  characterized  as  the  greatest 
intellectual  effort  ever  made  before  the  Parliament  of  Great  Britain. 
The  extract  here  given  is  the  peroration  of  that  speech.  ] 

IN  the  name  of  the  Commons  of  England,  I  charge 
all  this  villainy  upon  Warren  Hastings,  in  this  last 
moment  of  my  application  to  you. 

My  Lords,  what  is  it  that  we  want  here  to  a  great 
act  of  national  justice  ?  Do  we  want  a  cause,  my 
Lords  ?  You  have  the  cause  of  oppressed  princes, 
of  undone  women  of  the  first  rank,  of  desolated  prov- 
inces, and  of  wasted  kingdoms. 

Do  you  want  a  criminal,  my  Lords  ?  When  was 
there  so  much  iniquity  ever  laid  to  the  charge  of  any 
one  ?  No,  my  Lords,  you  must  not  look  to  punish 
any  other  such  delinquent  from  India.  Warren 
Hastings  has  not  left  substance  enough  in  India  to 
nourish  such  another  delinquent. 

My  Lords,  is  it  a  prosecutor  you  want  ?  You  have 
before  you  the  Commons  of  Great  Britain  as  prose- 
cutors ;  and  I  believe,  my  Lords,  that  the  sun  in  his 

55 


56  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

beneficent  progress  round  the  world,  does  not  behold 
a  more  glorious  sight  than  that  of  men,  separated 
from  a  remote  people  by  the  material  bounds  and 
barriers  of  nature,  united  by  the  bond  of  a  social  and 
moral  community — all  the  Commons  of  England  re- 
senting, as  their  own,  the  indignities  and  cruelties 
that  are  offered  to  all  the  people  of  India. 

Do  we  want  a  tribunal  ?  My  Lords,  no  example  of 
antiquity,  nothing  in  the  modern  world,  nothing  in 
the  range  of  human  imagination,  can  supply  us  with 
a  tribunal  like  this.  My  Lords,  here  we  see  virtually, 
in  the  mind's  eye,  that  sacred  majesty  of  the  Crown, 
under  whose  authority  you  sit,  and  whose  power  you 
exercise.  We  see  in  that  invisible  authority,  what 
we  all  feel  in  reality  and  life,  the  beneficent  powers 
and  protecting  justice  of  his  Majesty.  We  have  here 
the  heir-apparent  to  the  Crown,  such  as  the  fond 
wishes  of  the  people  of  England  wish  an  heir-ap- 
parent of  the  Crown  to  be.  We  have  here  all  the 
branches  of  the  royal  family,  in  a  situation  between 
majesty  and  subjection,  between  the  Sovereign  and 
the  subject— offering  a  pledge,  in  that  situation,  for 
the  support  of  the  rights  of  the  Crown  and  the  lib- 
erties of  the  people,  both  which  extremities  they 
touch.  My  Lords,  we  have  a  great  hereditary  peer- 
age here  ;  those  who  have  their  own  honor,  the  honor 
of  their  ancestors,  and  of  their  posterity,  to  guard, 
and  who  will  justify,  as  they  have  always  justified, 
that  provision  in  the  Constitution  by  which  justice 
is  made  an  hereditary  office.  My  Lords,  we  have 
here  a  new  nobility,  who  have  risen,  and  exalted 
themselves,  by  various  merits,  by  great  military  ser- 
vices, which  have  extended  the  fame  of  this  country 
from  the  rising  to  the  setting  sun.  We  have  those, 
who,  by  various  civil  merits  and  various  civil  talents, 


EDMUND   BUEKE  57 

have  been  exalted  to  a  situation  which  they  well  de- 
serve, and  in  which  they  will  justify  the  favor  of  their 
Sovereign  and  the  good  opinion  of  their  fellow- 
subjects,  and  make  them  rejoice  to  see  those  virtuous 
characters,  that  were  the  other  day  upon  a  level  with 
them,  now  exalted  above  them  in  rank,  but  feeling 
with  them  in  sympathy  what  they  felt  in  common 
with  them  before.  We  have  persons  exalted  from 
the  practice  of  the  law,  from  the  place  in  which  they 
administered  high,  though  subordinate  justice,  to  a 
seat  here,  to  enlighten  with  their  knowledge,  and  to 
strengthen  with  their  votes,  those  principles  which 
have  distinguished  the  courts  in  which  they  have 
presided. 

My  Lords,  you  have  here,  also,  the  lights  of  our 
religion ;  you  have  the  bishops  of  England.  My 
Lords,  you  have  that  true  image  of  the  primitive 
Church  in  its  ancient  form,  in  its  ancient  ordinances, 
purified  from  the  superstitions  and  the  vices  which 
a  long  succession  of  ages  will  bring  upon  the  best 
institutions.  You  have  the  representatives  of  that 
religion  which  says  that  their  God  is  love,  that  the 
very  vital  spirit  of  their  institution  is  charity — a  re- 
ligion which  so  much  hates  oppression,  that  when 
the  God  whom  we  adore  appeared  in  human  form, 
he  did  not  appear  in  a  form  of  greatness  and  maj- 
esty, but  in  sympathy  with  the  lowest  of  the  people, 
and  thereby  made  it  a  firm  and  ruling  principle  that 
their  welfare  was  the  object  of  all  government,  since 
the  person,  who  was  the  Master  of  Nature,  chose  to 
appear  himself  in  a  subordinate  situation.  These 
are  the  considerations  which  influence  them,  which 
animate  them,  and  will  animate  them,  against  all  op- 
pression :  knowing  that  He  who  is  called  first  among 
them,  and  first  among  us  all,  both  of  the  flock  that  is 


58  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC    SPEAKING 

fed  and  of  those  who  feed  it,  made  himself  "  the  ser- 
vant of  all." 

My  Lords,  these  are  the  securities  which  we  have 
in  all  the  constituent  parts  of  the  body  of  this  House. 
We  know  them,  we  reckon,  we  rest  upon,  and  com- 
mit safely  the  interests  of  India  and  of  humanity 
into  their  hands.  Therefore,  it  is  with  confidence, 
that,  ordered  by  the  Commons, 

I  impeach  Warren  Hastings,  Esquire,  of  high 
crimes  and  misdemeanors. 

I  impeach  him  in  the  name  of  the  Commons  of 
Great  Britain,  in  Parliament  assembled,  whose  par- 
liamentary trust  he  has  betrayed. 

I  impeach  him  in  the  name  of  all  the  Commons  of 
Great  Britain,  whose  national  character  he  has  dis- 
honored. 

I  impeach  him  in  the  name  of  the  people  of  India, 
whose  laws,  rights,  and  liberties  he  has  subverted, 
whose  property  he  has  destroyed,  whose  country  he 
has  laid  waste  and  desolate. 

I  impeach  him  in  the  name,  and  by  virtue,  of  those 
eternal  laws  of  justice  which  he  has  violated. 

I  impeach  him  in  the  name  of  human  nature  itself, 
which  he  has  cruelly  outraged,  injured,  and  op- 
pressed, in  both  sexes,  in  every  age,  rank,  situation, 
and  condition  of  life. 


CHAPTEE  in 

DIGNITY 

THE  failure  of  many  public  speakers  is  oftentimes 
due  solely  to  a  lack  of  dignity.  It  is  true  that  what 
some  speakers  mistake  for  dignity  is  but  a  vain  and 
pompous  strutting;  and  the  student  must  be  con- 
stantly on  his  guard  against  such  oratorical  dishon- 
esty. Nevertheless,  he  cannot  lay  too  much  stress 
upon  the  endeavor  to  impress  the  audience  with  the 
importance  of  his  theme  and  of  the  occasion.  This 
applies  as  well  to  the  address  delivered  to  an  average 
jury,  to  a  meeting  of  working-men,  or  to  an  after- 
dinner  speech,  as  to  a  sermon,  an  argument  before 
the  Supreme  Court,  or  to  a  Commemoration  Ode.  It 
is  true  that  different  occasions  may  call  for  different 
styles  and  treatments,  but  in  every  case  there  must 
be  dignity,  without  which  lasting  impressions  are 
well-nigh  impossible.  One  can  point,  no  doubt,  to 
several  speakers  who  have  achieved,  or  who  are 
achieving,  what  is  called  success,  but  whose  speech 
is  far  from  dignified ;  in  fact,  who  pride  themselves 
on  their  off-hand  manner  and  their  total  lack  of  dig- 
nity. But  it  is  certain  that  their  success  is  only 
temporary,  while  their  work  contributes  nothing  to 
the  annals  of  oratory.  It  may  be  well  to  repeat  that 

59 


60  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

on  every  occasion  we  expect  and  demand  that  the 
speaker  be  dignified  even  though  his  theme  be  but  a 
commonplace  one  and  his  style  simple  and  colloquial. 
While  it  is  true  that  an  audience  will  hardly  be 
likely  to  sympathize  with  a  speaker  who  appears  dis- 
tant and  overbearing,  yet  true  dignity,  even  with  an 
uncultivated  audience,  is  always  impressive,  and 
carries  with  it  a  weight  that  familiarity  can  never 
attain. 

There  are  few  who  have  not  some  conception  of 
true  dignity.  The  study  of  the  selections  in  this 
chapter  is  intended  to  develop  a  dignified  address 
through  the  development  of  the  individual.  That  is 
to  say,  dignity  must  be  the  manifestation  of  the  man. 
Let  the  student  conceive  the  circumstances  under 
which  the  speeches  were  delivered ;  let  him  rid  him- 
self of  all  narrowness  and  conceive  the  speaker's 
personal  bias  and  prejudice  as  eliminated  ;  let  him 
recognize  the  greatness  of  the  occasion  and  his  re- 
sponsibility ;  and  let  him  aim  to  convince  or  move 
his  audience  through  the  power  of  the  truths  he 
presents  rather  than  through  his  own  assertion  of 
those  truths.  In  this  way  he  will  soon  come  to  re- 
alize the  meaning  of  true  dignity  and  to  manifest  it 
in  all  his  work. 

Less  time  should  be  spent  on  this  chapter  than  on 
the  two  preceding.  It  requires  time  to  develop  dig- 
nity, and  it  is  useless  to  attempt  to  force  it.  So  soon 
as  the  student  has  caught  the  spirit  of  the  chapter 
therefore  he  may  pass  on  to  the  next  step,  endeavor- 
ing, however,  to  infuse  all  his  subsequent  work  with 
the  spirit  of  dignity. 


SECOND  INAUGURAL  ADDRESS 
ABEAHAM  LINCOLN 

March  4,  1865 

FELLOW-COUNTRYMEN— At  this  second  appearing 
to  take  the  oath  of  the  Presidential  office,  there  is 
less  occasion  for  an  extended  address  than  there 
was  at  the  first.  Then  a  statement  somewhat  in  de- 
tail of  a  course  to  be  pursued  seemed  very  fitting 
and  proper.  Now,  at  the  expiration  of  four  years, 
during  which  public  declarations  have  been  con- 
stantly called  forth  on  every  point  and  phase  of  the 
great  contest  which  still  absorbs  the  attention  and 
engrosses  the  energies  of  the  nation,  little  that  is 
new  could  be  presented. 

The  progress  of  our  arms,  upon  which  all  else 
chiefly  depends,  is  as  well  known  to  the  public  as  to 
myself,  and  it  is,  I  trust,  reasonably  satisfactory  and 
encouraging  to  all.  With  high  hope  for  the  future, 
no  prediction  in  regard  to  it  is  ventured. 

On  the  occasion  corresponding  to  this  four  years 
ago,  all  thoughts  were  anxiously  directed  to  an  im- 
pending civil  war.  All  dreaded  it,  all  sought  to 
avoid  it.  While  the  inaugural  address  was  being 
delivered  from  this  place,  devoted  altogether  to  sav- 
ing the  Union  without  war,  insurgent  agents  were 
in  the  city,  seeking  to  destroy  it  without  war — seeking 
to  dissolve  the  Union  and  divide  the  effects  by  nego- 
tiation. Both  parties  deprecated  war,  but  one  of 

61 


62  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

them  would  make  war  rather  than  let  the  nation  sur- 
vive, and  the  other  would  accept  war  rather  than 
let  it  perish,  and  the  war  came.  One-eighth  of 
the  whole  population  were  colored  slaves,  not  dis- 
tributed generally  over  the  Union,  but  localized  in 
the  southern  part  of  it.  These  slaves  constituted  a 
peculiar  and  powerful  interest.  All  knew  that  this 
interest  was  somehow  the  cause  of  the  war.  To 
strengthen,  perpetuate,  and  extend  this  interest  was 
the  object  for  which  the  insurgents  would  rend  the 
Union  by  war,  while  the  Government  claimed  no 
right  to  do  more  than  to  restrict  the  territorial  en- 
largement of  it. 

Neither  party  expected  for  the  war  the  mag- 
nitude or  the  duration  which  it  has  already  attained. 
Neither  anticipated  that  the  cause  of  the  conflict 
might  cease,  even  before  the  conflict  itself  should 
cease.  Each  looked  for  an  easier  triumph,  and  a 
result  less  fundamental  and  astounding. 

Both  read  the  same  Bible  and  pray  to  the  same 
God,  and  each  invokes  His  aid  against  the  other. 
It  may  seem  strange  that  any  men  should  dare  to  ask 
a  just  God's  assistance  in  wringing  their  bread  from 
the  sweat  of  other  men's  faces,  but  let  us  judge  not, 
that  we  be  not  judged.  The  prayer  of  both  could 
not  be  answered.  That  of  neither  has  been  answered 
fully.  The  Almighty  has  His  own  purposes.  "  Woe 
unto  the  world  because  of  offences,  for  it  must  needs 
be  that  offences  come,  but  woe  to  that  man  by  whom 
the  offence  cometh."  If  we  shall  suppose  that  Amer- 
ican slavery  is  one  of  these  offences  which,  in  the 
providence  of  God,  must  needs  come,  but  which  hav- 
ing continued  through  His  appointed  time,  He  now 
wills  to  remove,  and  that  He  gives  to  both  North 
and  South  this  terrible  war  as  the  woe  due  to  those 


ABRAHAM    LINCOLN  63 

by  whom  the  offence  came,  shall  we  discern  there 
any  departure  from  those  Divine  attributes  which 
the  believers  in  a  living  God  always  ascribe  to  Him  ? 
Fondly  do  we  hope,  fervently  do  we  pray,  that  this 
mighty  scourge  of  war  may  speedily  pass  away. 
Yet  if  God  wills  that  it  continue  until  all  the  wealth 
piled  by  the  bondsman's  two  hundred  and  fifty  years 
of  unrequited  toil  shall  be  sunk,  and  until  every  drop 
of  blood  drawn  with  the  lash  shall  be  paid  by  an- 
other drawn  with  the  sword,  as  was  said  three  thou- 
sand years  ago,  so,  still  it  must  be  said,  that  the 
judgments  of  the  Lord  are  true  and  righteous  al- 
together. 

With  malice  toward  none,  with  charity  for  all, 
with  firmness  in  the  right  as  God  gives  us  to  see 
the  right,  let  us  strive  on  to  finish  the  work  we  are 
in  ;  to  bind  up  the  nation's  wounds ;  to  care  for 
him  who  shall  have  borne  the  battle,  and  for  his 
widow  and  his  orphans ;  to  do  all  which  may 
achieve  and  cherish  a  just  and  a  lasting  peace 
among  ourselves  and  with  all  nations. 


THE  MAETYR  PRESIDENT 
HENEY  WAED  BEECHEE 

Brooklyn,  April  15,  1865 

"  And  Moses  went  up  from  the  plains  of  Moab,  unto  the  moun- 
tain of  Nebo,  to  the  top  of  Pisgah,  that  is  over  against  Jericho  ; 
and  the  Lord  showed  him  all  the  land  of  Gilead,  unto  Dan,  and  all 
Naphtali,  and  the  land  of  Ephraim,  and  Manasseh,  and  all  the 
land  of  Judah,  unto  the  utmost  sea,  and  the  south,  and  the  plain  of 
the  valley  of  Jericho,  the  city  of  palm  trees,  unto  Zoar.  And  the 
Lord  said  unto  him,  this  is  the  land  which  I  sware  unto  Abraham, 
unto  Isaac,  and  unto  Jacob,  saying,  I  will  give  it  unto  thy  seed  ;  I 
have  caused  thee  to  see  it  with  thine  eyes,  but  thou  shalt  not  go 
over  thither.  So  Moses,  the  servant  of  the  Lord,  died  there  in  the 
land  of  Moab,  according  to  the  word  of  the  Lord." — DBUT.  34  :  1-5. 

THERE  is  no  historic  figure  more  noble  than  that 
of  the  Jewish  law-giver.  After  so  many  thousand 
years  the  figure  of  Moses  is  not  diminished,  but 
stands  up  against  the  background  of  early  days,  dis- 
tinct and  individual,  as  if  he  had  lived  but  yester- 
day. There  is  scarcely  another  event  in  history 
more  touching  than  his  death.  He  had  borne  the 
great  burdens  of  state  for  forty  years,  shaped  the 
Jews  to  a  nation,  filled  out  their  civil  and  religious 
polity,  administered  their  laws,  guided  their  steps, 
or  dwelt  with  them  in  all  their  journeyings  in  the 
wilderness  ;  had  mourned  in  their  punishment,  kept 
step  with  their  march,  and  led  them  in  wars,  until 
the  end  of  their  labors  drew  nigh.  The  last  stage 
was  reached.  Jordan  only  lay  between  them  and 

64 


HENRY    WARD   BEECHER  65 

the  promised  land.  The  promised  land ! — oh,  what 
yearning's  had  heaved  his  breast  for  that  divinely 
promised  place!  He  had  dreamed  of  it  by  night, 
and  mused  by  day.  It  was  holy  and  endeared  as 
God's  favored  spot.  It  was  to  be  the  cradle  of  an 
illustrious  history.  All  his  long-,  laborious,  and  now 
weary  life,  he  had  aimed  at  this  as  the  consumma- 
tion of  every  desire,  the  reward  of  every  toil  and 
pain.  Then  came  the  word  of  the  Lord  to  him, 
"Thou  mayest  not  go  over:  Get  thee  up  into  the 
mountain,  look  upon  it,  and  die." 

From  that  silent  summit,  the  hoary  leader  gazed 
to  the  north,  to  the  south,  to  the  west,  with  hungry 
eyes.  The  dim  outlines  rose  up.  The  hazy  recesses 
spoke  of  quiet  valleys  between  the  hills.  With 
eager  longing,  with  sad  resignation,  he  looked  upon 
the  promised  land.  It  was  now  to  him  a  forbidden 
land.  It  was  a  moment's  anguish.  He  forgot  all 
his  personal  wants,  and  drank  in  the  vision  of  his 
people's  home.  His  work  was  done.  There  lay 
God's  promise  fulfilled.  There  was  the  seat  of 
coming  Jerusalem  ;  there  the  city  of  Judah's  King ; 
the  sphere  of  judges  and  prophets ;  the  mount  of 
sorrow  and  salvation ;  the  nest  whence  were  to  fly 
blessings  innumerable  to  all  mankind.  Joy  chased 
sadness  from  every  feature,  and  the  prophet  laid 
him  down  and  died. 

Again  a  great  leader  of  the  people  has  passed 
through  toil,  sorrow,  battle,  and  war,  and  come  near 
to  the  promised  land  of  peace,  into  which  he  might 
not  pass  over.  Who  shall  recount  our  martyr's  suf- 
ferings for  this  people  ?  Since  the  November  of 
1860,  his  horizon  has  been  black  with  storms.  By 
day  and  by  night  he  trod  a  way  of  danger  and  dark- 
ness. On  his  shoulders  rested  a  government  dearer 


66  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

to  him  than  his  own  life.  At  its  integrity  millions 
of  men  were  striking  at  home.  Upon  this  govern- 
ment foreign  eyes  lowered.  It  stood  like  a  lone 
island  in  a  sea  full  of  storms ;  and  every  tide  and 
wave  seemed  eager  to  devour  it.  Upon  thousands 
.of  hearts  great  sorrows  and  anxieties  have  rested, 
but  not  on  one  such,  and  in  such  measure,  as  upon 
that  simple,  truthful,  noble  soul,  our  faithful  and 
sainted  Lincoln.  Never  rising  to  the  enthusiasm  of 
more  impassioned  natures  in  hours  of  hope,  and 
never  sinking  with  the  mercurial  in  hours  of  defeat 
to  the  depths  of  despondency,  he  held  on  with 
unmovable  patience  and  fortitude,  putting  caution 
against  hope,  that  it  might  not  be  premature,  and 
hope  against  caution,  that  it  might  not  yield  to 
dread  and  danger.  He  wrestled  ceaselessly,  through 
four  black  and  dreadful  purgatorial  years,  wherein 
God  was  cleansing  the  sin  of  his  people  as  by  fire. 

At  last  the  watcher  beheld  the  gray  dawn  for  the 
country.  The  mountains  began  to  give  forth  their 
forms  from  out  the  darkness ;  and  the  East  came 
rushing  toward  us  with  arms  full  of  joy  for  all  our 
sorrows.  Then  it  was  for  him  to  be  glad  exceeding- 
ly, that  had  sorrowed  immeasurably.  Peace  could 
bring  to  no  other  heart  such  joy,  such  rest,  such 
honor,  such  trust,  such  gratitude.  But  he  looked 
upon  it  as  Moses  looked  upon  the  promised  land. 
Then  the  wail  of  a  nation  proclaimed  that  he  had 
gone  from  among  us.  Not  thine  the  sorrow,  but 
ours,  sainted  soul.  Thou  hast  indeed  entered  the 
promised  land,  while  we  are  yet  on  the  march.  To 
us  remains  the  rocking  of  the  deep,  the  storm  upon 
the  land,  days  of  duty  and  nights  of  watching,  but 
thou  art  sphered  high  above  all  darkness  and  fear, 
beyond  all  sorrow  and  weariness.  Best,  O  weary 


HENRY    WARD    BEECHER  67 

heart !  Kejoice  exceedingly,  them  that  hast  suffered 
enough !  Thou  hast  beheld  Him  who  invisibly  led 
thee  in  this  great  wilderness.  Thou  standest  among 
the  elect.  Around  thee  are  the  royal  men  that  have 
ennobled  human  life  in  every  age.  Kingly  art  thou, 
with  glory  on  thy  brow  as  a  diadem.  And  joy  is 
upon  thee  for  evermore.  Over  all  this  land,  over 
all  the  little  cloud  of  years  that  now  from  thine  in- 
finite horizon  moves  back  as  a  speck,  thou  art  lifted 
up  as  high  as  the  star  is  above  the  clouds  that  hide 
us,  but  never  reach  it.  In  the  goodly  company  of 
Mount  Zion  thou  shalt  find  that  rest  which  thou  hast 
sorrowing  sought  in  vain ;  and  thy  name,  an  ever- 
lasting name  in  heaven,  shall  flourish  in  fragrance 
and  beauty  as  long  as  men  shall  last  upon  the  earth, 
or  hearts  remain,  to  revere  truth,  fidelity,  and  good- 
ness. 

Never  did  two  such  orbs  of  experience  meet  in  one 
hemisphere,  as  the  joy  and  the  sorrow  of  the  same 
week  in  this  land.  The  joy  was  as  sudden  as  if  no 
man  had  expected  it,  and  as  entrancing  as  if  it  had 
fallen  a  sphere  from  heaven.  It  rose  up  over 
sobriety,  and  swept  business  from  its  moorings,  and 
ran  down  through  the  land  in  irresistible  course. 
Men  embraced  each  other  in  brotherhood  that  were 
strangers  in  the  flesh.  They  sang,  or  prayed,  or, 
deeper  yet,  many  could  only  think  thanksgiving 
and  weep  gladness.  That  peace  was  sure ;  that 
government  was  firmer  than  ever  ;  that  the  land  was 
cleansed  of  plague ;  that  the  ages  were  opening  to 
our  footsteps,  and  we  were  to  begin  a  march  of 
blessings ;  that  blood  was  staunched,  and  scowling 
enmities  were  sinking  like  storms  beneath  the  hori- 
zon ;  that  the  dear  fatherland,  nothing  lost,  much 
gained,  was  to  rise  up  in  unexampled  honor  among 


68  PRACTICAL  PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

the  nations  of  the  earth — these  thoughts,  and  that 
undistinguishable  throng  of  fancies,  and  hopes,  and 
desires,  and  yearnings,  that  filled  the  soul  with 
tremblings  like  the  heated  air  of  midsummer  days 
— all  these  kindled  up  such  a  surge  of  joy  as  no 
words  may  describe. 

In  one  hour  joy  lay  without  a  pulse,  without  a 
gleam,  or  breath.  A  sorrow  came  that  swept  through 
the  land  as  huge  storms  sweep  through  the  forest 
and  field,  rolling  thunder  along  the  sky,  dishevelling 
the  flowers,  daunting  every  singer  in  thicket  or 
forest,  and  pouring  blackness  and  darkness  across 
the  land  and  up  the  mountains.  Did  ever  so  many 
hearts,  in  so  brief  a  time,  touch  two  such  boundless 
feelings?  It  was  the  uttermost  of  joy  ;  it  was  the 
uttermost  of  sorrow — noon  and  midnight,  without  a 
space  between. 

The  blow  brought  not  a  sharp  pang.  It  was  so 
terrible  that  at  first  it  stunned  sensibility.  Citizens 
were  like  men  awakened  at  midnight  by  an  earth- 
quake, and  bewildered  to  find  everything  that  they 
were  accustomed  to  trust  wavering  and  falling.  The 
very  earth  was  no  longer  solid.  The  first  feeling 
was  the  least.  Men  waited  to  get  straight  to  feel. 
They  wandered  in  the  streets  as  if  groping  after 
some  impending  dread,  or  undeveloped  sorrow,  or 
some  one  to  tell  them  what  ailed  them.  They  met 
each  other  as  if  each  would  ask  the  other,  "  Am  I 
awake,  or  do  I  dream  ?  "  There  was  a  piteous  help- 
lessness. Strong  men  bowed  down  and  wept.  Other 
and  common  griefs  belonged  to  some  one  in  chief: 
this  belonged  to  all.  It  was  each  and  every  man's. 
Every  virtuous  household  in  the  land  felt  as  if  its 
first-born  were  gone.  Men  were  bereaved,  and 
walked  for  days  as  if  a  corpse  lay  unburied  in  their 


HENRY   WARD   BEECHER  69 

dwellings.  There  was  nothing  else  to  think  of. 
They  could  speak  of  nothing  but  that ;  and  yet,  of 
that  they  could  speak  only  falteringly.  All  busi- 
ness was  laid  aside.  Pleasure  forgot  to  smile.  The 
city  for  nearly  a  week  ceased  to  roar.  The  great 
Leviathan  lay  down,  and  was  still.  Even  avarice 
stood  still,  and  greed  was  strangely  moved  to  gen- 
erous sympathy  and  universal  sorrow.  Kear  to  his 
name  monuments,  found  charitable  institutions,  and 
write  his  name  above  their  lintels ;  but  no  monu- 
ment will  ever  equal  the  universal,  spontaneous,  and 
sublime  sorrow  that  in  a  moment  swept  down  lines 
and  parties,  and  covered  up  animosities,  and  in  an 
hour  brought  a  divided  people  into  unity  of  grief 
and  indivisible  fellowship  of  anguish. 

And  now  the  martyr  is  moving  in  triumphal 
march,  mightier  than  when  alive.  The  nation  rises 
up  at  every  stage  of  his  coming.  Cities  and  states 
are  his  pall-bearers,  and  the  cannon  beats  the  hours 
with  solemn  progression.  Dead,  dead,  dead,  he  yet 
speaketh!  Is  Washington  dead?  Is  Hampden 
dead?  Is  David  dead?  Is  any  man  that  ever  was 
fit  to  live  dead  ?  Disenthralled  of  flesh,  and  risen 
in  the  unobstructed  sphere  where  passion  never 
comes,  he  begins  his  illimitable  work.  His  life  now 
is  grafted  upon  the  infinite,  and  will  be  fruitful  as 
no  earthly  life  can  be.  Pass  on,  thou  that  hast  over- 
come! Your  sorrows,  oh  people,  are  his  peace! 
Your  bells,  and  bands,  and  muffled  drums,  sound 
triumph  in  his  ear.  Wail  and  weep  here ;  God 
makes  it  echo  joy  and  triumph  there.  Pass  on! 

Four  years  ago,  oh,  Illinois,  we  took  from  your 
midst  an  untried  man,  and  from  among  the  people. 
We  return  him  to  you  a  mighty  conqueror.  Not 
thine  any  more,  but  the  nation's ;  not  ours,  but  the 


70  PEACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

world's.  Give  him  place,  oh,  ye  prairies !  In  the 
midst  of  this  great  continent  his  dust  shall  rest,  a 
sacred  treasure  to  myriads  who  shall  pilgrim  to  that 
shrine  to  kindle  anew  their  zeal  and  patriotism.  Ye 
winds  that  move  over  the  mighty  places  of  the  West, 
chant  requiem !  Ye  people,  behold  a  martyr  whose 
blood,  as  so  many  articulate  words,  pleads  for  fidel- 
ity, for  law,  for  liberty  I 


ORATION  AT  THE  LAYING  OF  THE 
CORNEE-STONE  OF  THE  BUNKER 
HILL  MONUMENT 

DANIEL  WEBSTEE 

Charlestown,  Mass.,  June  17,  1825 

THIS  uncounted  multitude  before  me,  and  around 
me,  proves  the  feeling-  which  the  occasion  has  ex- 
cited. These  thousands  of  human  faces,  glowing 
with  sympathy  and  joy,  and,  from  the  impulses  of  a 
common  gratitude,  turned  reverently  to  heaven,  in 
this  spacious  temple  of  the  firmament,  proclaim  that 
the  day,  the  place,  and  the  purpose  of  our  assem- 
bling, have  made  a  deep  impression  on  our  hearts. 

If,  indeed,  there  be  anything  in  local  association 
fit  to  affect  the  mind  of  man,  we  need  not  strive  to 
repress  the  emotions  which  agitate  us  here.  We 
are  among  the  sepulchres  of  our  fathers.  We  are 
on  ground  distinguished  by  their  valor,  their  con- 
stancy, and  the  shedding  of  their  blood.  We  are 
here,  not  to  fix  an  uncertain  date  in  our  annals,  nor 
to  draw  into  notice  an  obscure  and  unknown  spot. 
If  our  humble  purpose  had  never  been  conceived,  if 
we  ourselves  had  never  been  born,  the  17th  of  June, 
1775,  would  have  been  a  day  on  which  all  subsequent 
history  would  have  poured  its  light,  and  the  emi- 
nence where  we  stand,  a  point  of  attraction  to  the 
eyes  of  successive  generations. 

The  society,  whose  organ  I  am,  was  formed  for  the 
73 


74  PEACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

purpose  of  rearing-  some  honorable  and  durable  mon- 
ument to  the  memory  of  the  early  friends  of  Amer- 
ican Independence.  They  have  thought  that,  for  this 
subject,  no  time  could  be  more  propitious  than  the 
present  prosperous  and  peaceful  period;  that  no 
place  could  claim  preference  over  this  memorable 
spot ;  and  that  no  day  could  be  more  auspicious  to 
the  undertaking*,  than  the  anniversary  of  the  battle 
which  was  here  fought.  The  foundation  of  that  mon- 
ument we  have  now  laid.  With  solemnities  suited 
to  the  occasion,  with  prayers  to  Almighty  God  for 
His  blessing,  and  in  the  midst  of  this  cloud  of  wit- 
nesses, we  have  begun  the  work.  We  trust  it  will 
be  prosecuted ;  and  that,  springing  from  a  broad 
foundation,  rising  high  in  massive  solidity  and  un- 
adorned grandeur,  it  may  remain,  as  long  as  Heaven 
permits  the  work  of  man  to  last,  a  fit  emblem,  both 
of  the  events  in  memory  of  which  it  is  raised,  and  of 
the  gratitude  of  those  who  have  reared  it. 

Let  it  not  be  supposed  that  our  object  is  to  per- 
petuate national  hostility,  or  even  to  cherish  a  mere 
military  spirit.  It  is  higher,  purer,  nobler.  We 
consecrate  our  work  to  the  spirit  of  national  inde- 
pendence, and  we  wish  that  the  light  of  peace  may 
rest  upon  it  forever.  We  rear  a  memorial  of  our 
conviction  of  that  unmeasured  benefit,  which  has 
been  conferred  on  our  own  land,  and  of  the  happy 
influences  which  have  been  produced  by  the  same 
events,  on  the  general  interests  of  mankind.  We 
come,  as  Americans,  to  mark  a  spot  which  must  for- 
ever be  dear  to  us  and  our  posterity.  We  wish  that 
whosoever,  in  all  coming  time,  shall  turn  his  eye 
hither,  may  behold  that  the  place  is  not  undis- 
tinguished, where  the  first  great  battle  of  the  rev- 
olution was  fought.  We  wish  that  this  structure 


DANIEL   WEBSTER  75 

may  proclaim  the  magnitude  and  importance  of  that 
event,  to  every  class  and  every  age.  We  wish  that 
infancy  may  learn  the  purpose  of  its  erection,  from 
maternal  lips  ;  and  that  weary  and  withered  age  may 
behold  it,  and  be  solaced  by  the  recollections  which 
it  suggests.  We  wish  that  labor  may  look  up  here, 
and  be  proud,  in  the  midst  of  its  toil.  We  wish 
that,  in  those  days  of  disaster,  which,  as  they  come 
on  all  nations,  must  be  expected  to  come  on  us  also, 
desponding  patriotism  may  turn  its  eyes  hitherward, 
and  be  assured  that  the  foundations  of  our  national 
power  still  stand  strong.  We  wish  that  this  column, 
rising  towards  heaven  among  the  pointed  spires  of 
so  many  temples  dedicated  to  God,  may  contribute 
also  to  produce,  in  all  minds,  a  pious  feeling  of 
dependence  and  gratitude.  We  wish,  finally,  that 
the  last  object  on  the  sight  of  him  who  leaves  his 
native  shore,  and  the  first  to  gladden  his  who  revisits 
it,  may  be  something  which  shall  remind  him  of 
the  liberty  and  the  glory  of  his  country.  Let  it  rise, 
till  it  meet  the  sun  in  his  coming ;  let  the  earliest 
light  of  the  morning  gild  it,  and  parting  day  linger 
and  play  on  its  summit. 

We  live  in  a  most  extraordinary  age.  Events  so 
various  and  so  important  that  they  might  crowd 
and  distinguish  centuries,  are,  in  our  times,  com- 
pressed within  the  compass  of  a  single  life.  When 
has  it  happened  that  history  has  had  so  much  to 
record,  in  the  same  term  of  years,  as  since  the  17th  of 
June,  1775  ?  Our  own  revolution,  which,  under  other 
circumstances,  might  itself  have  been  expected  to 
occasion  a  war  of  half  a  century,  has  been  achieved ; 
twenty -four  sovereign  and  independent  states  erect- 
ed ;  and  a  general  government  established  over  them, 
so  safe,  so  wise,  so  free,  so  practical,  that  we  might 


76  PRACTICAL  PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

well  wonder  its  establishment  should  have  been 
accomplished  so  soon,  were  it  not  for  the  greater 
wonder  that  it  should  have  been  established  at  all. 
Two  or  three  millions  of  people  have  been  aug- 
mented to  twelve ;  and  the  great  forests  of  the 
West  prostrated  beneath  the  arm  of  successful  in- 
dustry ;  and  the  dwellers  on  the  banks  of  the  Ohio 
and  the  Mississippi  become  the  fellow-citizens  and 
neighbors  of  those  who  cultivate  the  hills  of  New 
England.  We  have  a  commerce  that  leaves  no  sea 
unexplored  ;  navies  that  take  no  law  from  superior 
force ;  revenues  adequate  to  all  the  exigencies  of 
government,  almost  without  taxation ;  and  peace 
with  all  nations,  founded  on  equal  rights  and  mut- 
ual respect. 

Europe  within  the  same  period,  has  been  agitated 
by  a  mighty  revolution,  which,  while  it  has  been  felt 
in  the  individual  condition  and  happiness  of  almost 
every  man,  has  shaken  to  the  centre  her  political 
fabric,  and  dashed  against  one  another,  thrones  which 
had  stood  tranquil  for  ages.  On  this,  our  continent, 
our  own  example  has  been  followed ;  and  colonies 
have  sprung  up  to  be  nations.  Unaccustomed  sounds 
of  liberty  and  free  government  have  reached  us  from 
beyond  the  track  of  the  sun  ;  and  at  this  moment  the 
dominion  of  European  power,  in  this  continent,  from 
the  place  where  we  stand  to  the  south  pole,  is  anni- 
hilated forever. 

In  the  mean  time,  both  in  Europe  and  America, 
such  has  been  the  general  progress  of  knowledge  ; 
such  the  improvements  in  legislation,  in  commerce, 
in  the  arts,  in  letters,  and  above  all,  in  the  liberal 
ideas  and  the  general  spirit  of  the  age,  that  the 
whole  world  seems  changed. 

Yet,  notwithstanding  that  this  is  but  a  faint  abstract 


DANIEL   WEBSTER  77 

of  the  things  which  have  happened  since  the  day  of 
the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill,  we  are  but  fifty  years  re- 
moved from  it ;  and  we  now  stand  here,  to  enjoy  all 
the  blessings  of  our  own  condition,  and  to  look  abroad 
on  the  brightened  prospects  of  the  world,  while  we 
hold  still  among  us  some  of  those,  who  Were  active 
agents  in  the  scenes  of  1775,  and  who  are  now  here, 
from  every  quarter  of  New  England,  to  visit,  once 
more,  and  under  circumstances  so  affecting — I  had 
almost  said  so  overwhelming — this  renowned  theatre 
of  their  courage  and  patriotism. 

Venerable  men !  you  have  come  down  to  us,  from 
a  former  generation.  Heaven  has  bounteously 
lengthened  out  your  lives,  that  you  might  behold  this 
joyous  day.  You  are  now  where  you  stood  fifty  years 
ago,  this  very  hour,  with  your  brothers,  and  your 
neighbors,  shoulder  to  shoulder,  in  the  strife  for  your 
country.  Behold,  how  altered  !  The  same  heavens 
are  indeed  above  your  heads  ;  the  same  ocean  rolls  at 
your  feet ;  but  all  else,  how  changed  !  You  hear  now 
no  roar  of  hostile  cannon,  you  see  no  mixed  volumes 
of  smoke  and  flame  rising  from  burning  Charlestown. 
The  ground  strewed  with  the  dead  and  the  dying  ; 
the  impetuous  charge  ;  the  steady  and  successful  re- 
pulse ;  the  loud  call  to  repeated  assault ;  the  sum- 
moning of  all  that  is  manly  to  repeated  resistance  ; 
a  thousand  bosoms  freely  and  fearlessly  bared  in  an 
instant  to  whatever  of  terror  there  may  be  in  war  and 
death  ;  all  these  you  have  witnessed,  but  you  wit- 
ness them  no  more.  All  is  peace.  The  heights  of 
yonder  metropolis,  its  towers  and  roofs,  which  you 
then  saw  filled  with  wives,  and  children,  and  country- 
men in  distress  and  terror,  and  looking  with  unutter- 
able emotions  for  the  issue  of  the  combat,  have  pre- 
sented you  to-day  with  the  sight  of  its  whole  happy 


78  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

population,  come  out  to  welcome  and  greet  you  with 
a  universal  jubilee.  Yonder  proud  ships,  by  a  felicity 
of  position  appropriately  lying  at  the  foot  of  this 
mount,  and  seeming  fondly  to  cling  around  it,  are 
not  means  of  annoyance  to  you,  but  your  country's 
own  means  of  distinction  and  defence.  All  is  peace  ; 
and  God  has  granted  you  this  sight  of  your  country's 
happiness,  ere  you  slumber  in  the  grave  forever. 
He  has  allowed  you  to  behold  and  to  partake  the  re- 
ward of  your  patriotic  toils  ;  and  he  has  allowed  us, 
your  sons  and  countrymen,  to  meet  you  here,  and 
in  the  name  of  the  present  generation,  in  the  name 
of  your  country,  in  the  name  of  liberty,  to  thank 
you! 

But,  alas !  you  are  not  all  here !  Time  and  the 
sword  have  thinned  your  ranks.  Prescott,  Putnam, 
Stark,  Brooks,  Read,  Pomeroy,  Bridge  ;  our  eyes 
seek  for  you  in  vain  amidst  this  broken  band !  You 
are  gathered  to  your  fathers,  and  live  only  to  your 
country  in  her  grateful  remembrance,  and  your  own 
bright  example.  But  let  us  not  too  much  grieve  that 
you  have  met  the  common  fate  of  men.  You  lived, 
at  least,  long  enough  to  know  that  your  work  had 
been  nobly  and  successfully  accomplished.  You  lived 
to  see  your  country's  independence  established,  and 
to  sheathe  your  swords  from  war.  On  the  light  of 
liberty  you  saw  arise  the  light  of  peace,  like 

' '  Another  morn, 
Risen  on  mid-noon  ;" — 

and  the  sky,  on  which  you  closed  your  eyeg,  was 
cloudless. 

But — ah ! — him  !  the  first  great  martyr  in  this  great 
cause !  him !  the  premature  victim  of  his  own  self- 
devoting  heart !  him !  the  head  of  our  civil  councils, 


DANIEL    WEBSTER  79 

and  the  destined  leader  of  our  military  bands ;  whom 
nothing  brought  hither  but  the  unquenchable  fire 
of  his  own  spirit ;  him !  cut  off  by  Providence,  in  the 
hour  of  overwhelming  anxiety  and  thick  gloom  ; 
falling  ere  he  saw  the  star  of  his  country  rise ;  pour- 
ing out  his  generous  blood,  like  water,  before  he 
knew  whether  it  would  fertilize  a  land  of  freedom  or 
of  bondage — how  shall  I  struggle  with  the  emotions 
that  stifle  the  utterance  of  thy  name ! — Our  poor 
work  may  perish ;  but  thine  shall  endure !  This 
monument  may  moulder  away ;  the  solid  ground  it 
rests  upon  may  sink  down  to  a  level  with  the  sea  ; 
but  thy  memory  shall  not  fail !  Wheresoever  among 
men  a  heart  shall  be  found,  that  beats  to  the  trans- 
ports of  patriotism  and  liberty,  its  aspirations  shall 
be  to  claim  kindred  with  thy  spirit ! 

But  the  scene  amidst  which  we  stand  does  not 
permit  us  to  confine  our  thoughts  or  our  sympathies 
to  those  fearless  spirits,  who  hazarded  or  lost  their 
lives  on  this  consecrated  spot.  We  have  the  happi- 
ness to  rejoice  here  in  the  presence  of  a  most  worthy 
representation  of  the  survivors  of  the  whole  revolu- 
tionary army. 

Veterans!  you  are  the  remnant  of  many  a  well- 
fought  field.  You  bring  with  you  marks  of  honor, 
from  Trenton,  and  Monmouth,  from  Yorktown,  Cam- 
den,  Bennington,  and  Saratoga.  Veterans  of  half  a 
century!  when,  in  your  youthful  days,  you  put 
everything  at  hazard  in  your  country's  cause,  good 
as  that  cause  was,  and  sanguine  as  youth  is,  still 
your  fondest  hopes  did  not  stretch  onward  to  an 
hour  like  this !  At  a  period  to  which  you  could  not 
reasonably  have  expected  to  arrive ;  at  a  moment 
of  national  prosperity,  such  as  you  could  never  have 
foreseen,  you  are  now  met,  here,  to  enjoy  the  fellow 


80  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

ship  of  old  soldiers,  and  to  receive  the  overflowing's 
of  a  universal  gratitude. 

But  your  agitated  countenances  and  your  heaving 
breasts  inform  me,  that  even  this  is  not  an  unmixed 
joy.  I  perceive  that  a  tumult  of  contending  feelings 
rushes  upon  you.  The  image  of  the  dead,  as  well 
as  the  persons  of  the  living,  throng  to  your  em- 
braces. The  scene  overwhelms  you,  and  I  turn  from 
it.  May  the  Father  of  all  mercies  smile  upon  your 
declining  years,  and  bless  them !  And  when  you 
shall  here  have  exchanged  your  embraces ;  when 
you  shall  once  more  have  pressed  the  hands  which 
have  been  so  often  extended  to  give  succor  in  ad- 
versity, or  grasped  in  the  exultation  of  victory ; 
then  look  abroad  into  this  lovely  land,  which  your 
young  valor  defended,  and  mark  the  happiness  with 
which  it  is  filled ;  yea,  look  abroad  into  the  whole 
earth,  and  see  what  a  name  you  have  contributed 
to  give  to  your  country,  and  what  a  praise  you  have 
added  to  freedom ;  and  then  rejoice  in  the  sympathy 
and  gratitude  which  beam  upon  your  last  days  from 
the  improved  condition  of  mankind. 

And  let  the  sacred  obligations  which  have  de- 
volved on  this  generation,  and  on  us,  sink  deep  into 
our  hearts.  Those  are  daily  dropping  from  among 
us,  who  established  our  liberty  and  our  government. 
The  great  trust  now  descends  to  new  hands.  Let  us 
apply  ourselves  to  that  which  is  presented  to  us,  as 
our  appropriate  object.  We  can  win  no  laurels  in  a 
war  for  independence.  Earlier  and  worthier  hands 
have  gathered  them  all.  Nor  are  there  places  for  us 
by  the  side  of  Solon,  and  Alfred,  and  other  founders 
of  states.  Our  fathers  have  filled  them.  But  there 
remains  to  us  a  great  duty  of  defence  and  preserva- 
tion ;  and  there  is  opened  to  us,  also,  a  noble  pur- 


DANIEL  WEBSTER  81 

suit,  to  which  the  spirit  of  the  times  strongly  invites 
us.  Our  proper  business  is  improvement.  Let  our 
age  be  the  age  of  improvement.  In  a  day  of  peace, 
let  us  advance  the  arts  of  peace  and  the  works  of 
peace.  Let  us  develop  the  resources  of  our  land, 
call  forth  its  powers,  build  up  its  institutions,  pro- 
mote all  its  great  interests,  and  see  whether  we  also, 
in  our  day  and  generation,  may  not  perform  some- 
thing worthy  to  be  remembered.  Let  us  cultivate 
a  true  spirit  of  union  and  harmony.  In  pursuing 
the  great  objects  which  our  condition  points  out  to 
us,  let  us  act  under  a  settled  conviction,  and  an 
habitual  feeling,  that  these  twenty-four  States  are 
one  country.  Let  our  conceptions  be  enlarged  to 
the  circle  of  our  duties.  Let  us  extend  our  ideas 
over  the  whole  of  the  vast  field  in  which  we  are 
called  to  act.  Let  our  object  be,  our  country,  our 
whole  country,  and  nothing  but  our  country.  And, 
by  the  blessing  of  God,  may  that  country  itself  be- 
come a  vast  and  splendid  monument,  not  of  oppres- 
sion and  terror,  but  of  wisdom,  of  peace,  and  of 
liberty,  upon  which  the  world  may  gaze,  with  ad- 
miration, forever. 


part  {Two 
THE  STUDY  OF  DETAIL 


CHAPTER  IV 

MOODS 

THUS  far  we  have  been  considering  the  fundamental 
elements  of  public  speaking.  We  have  been  aiming 
to  bring  before  the  student's  mind  the  value  of  di- 
rectness, earnestness,  and  dignity  ;  and  to  train  him  in 
the  development  of  these  essentials.  In  Part  Two 
we  are  to  study  the  presentation  of  thought  in  de- 
tail. As  we  listen  to  conversation  we  note  the  variety 
of  inflection,  melody,  key,  quality,  etc.  Public 
speaking  should  have  much  the  same  variety,  not  for 
its  own  sake,  but  that  the  audience  may  follow  the 
speaker  without  effort.  One  of  the  most  serious  de- 
fects possible  in  a  public  speaker  is  the  tendency  to 
drift.  It  leads  the  speaker  to  state  his  case  in  a  mo- 
notonously dreary  style,  or  allows  him  to  be  carried 
along  in  an  equally  monotonous  way,  upon  the  tide 
of  intense  feeling. 

The  study  of  moods  will  contribute  much  to  a  per- 
manent emotional  poise,  and  hence  to  greater  variety 
of  expression.  As  a  result  the  student  will  be  a  more 
interesting  speaker,  easier  to  follow,  and  more  effect- 
ive in  argument. 

When  one  speaks  extempore,  each  successive 
thought  is  presented  with  a  definite  purpose.  This 
sentence  asks  a  question  ;  the  next  strongly  asserts ; 
the  following  appeals,  urges,  or  entreats.  Each 

85 


86  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

thought  creates  a  definite  mood  in  the  speaker  which 
manifests  itself  in  his  expression.  When  one  recites 
the  words  of  another  there  should  be  the  same  vari- 
ety ;  but  as  a  rule  it  is  not  present  because  we  do  not 
consciously  analyze  the  text  to  discover  the  various 
moods.  This  is  often  equally  true  of  speakers  who 
have  learned  their  own  words  by  heart,  or  who  read 
them  from  the  manuscript. 

A  brief  analysis  of  a  part  of  the  sixth  paragraph  of 
Webster's  speech  will  make  clear  the  purpose  of  this 
chapter.  Beginning  with  the  words,  "  But  the  gen- 
tleman inquires  why  he  was  made  the  object  of  such 
a  reply,"  and  ending,  "with  his  friend  from  Mis- 
souri " — we  find  four  distinct  moods :  the  first  ending 
with  "Missouri"  ;  the  second  with  "  impressions  " ;  the 
third  with  "  delay  "  ;  and  the  fourth  with  "  Missouri." 
Without  insisting  on  any  particular  interpretation, 
one  may  say  that  the  first  mood  is  that  of  inquiry ; 
the  second,  assertion  ;  the  third,  beginning  with  neg- 
ative statement,  ends  in  stron'g  and  emphatic  asser- 
tion ;  and  the  fourth  is  a  simple  transition  leading  up 
to  the  next  phase  of  the  subject,  "  If,  sir,  the  honora- 
ble member,"  etc.  It  will  be  found  very  helpful  if 
each  student  will  analyze  certain  portions  of  the  en- 
tire selection  and  then  render  them  as  a  test  of  his 
grasp  of  the  subject  of  Moods.  The  results  of  such 
study  will  soon  be  evident  not  only  in  declamation, 
but  in  original  work. 

If  students  will  bear  in  mind  that  the  mood  must 
precede  the  spoken  word  they  will  have  gone  far  to- 
ward mastering  the  principle  here  discussed. 


REPLY  TO  HATNE 
DANIEL  WEBSTER 

United  States  Senate,  Jcmitary  26,  1830 

MB.  PKESIDENT — When  the  mariner  has  been 
tossed,  for  many  days,  in  thick  weather,  and  on  an 
unknown  sea,  he  naturally  avails  himself  of  the  first 
pause  in  the  storm,  the  earliest  glance  of  the  sun, 
to  take  his  latitude,  and  ascertain  how  far  the  ele- 
ments have  driven  him  from  his  true  course.  Let 
us  imitate  this  prudence,  and  before  we  float  farther, 
refer  to  the  point  from  which  we  departed,  that  we 
may  at  least  be  able  to  conjecture  where  we  now  are. 
I  ask  for  the  reading"  of  the  resolution. 

[The  Secretary  read  the  resolution,  as  follows : 

"Resolved,  That  the  committee  on  public  lands 
be  instructed  to  inquire  and  report  the  quantity  of 
the  public  lands  remaining  unsold  within  each  state 
and  territory,  and  whether  it  be  expedient  to  limit,  for 
a  certain  period,  the  sales  of  the  public  lands  to  such 
lands  only  as  have  heretofore  been  offered  for  sale, 
and  are  now  subject  to  entry  at  the  minimum  price. 
And,  also,  whether  the  office  of  surveyor  general, 
and  some  of  the  land  offices,  may  not  be  abolished 
without  detriment  to  the  public  interest ;  or  whether 
it  be  expedient  to  adopt  measures  to  hasten  the 
sales,  and  extend  more  rapidly  the  surveys  of  the 
public  lands."] 

We  have  thus  heard,  sir,  what  the  resolution  is, 
87 


00  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

which  is  actually  before  us  for  consideration  ;  and  it 
will  readily  occur  to  every  one  that  it  is  almost 
the  only  subject  about  which  something  has  not 
been  said  in  the  speech,  running1  through  two 
days,  by  which  the  Senate  has  been  now  entertained 
by  the  gentleman  from  South  Carolina.  Every 
topic  in  the  wide  range  of  our  public  affairs,  wheth- 
er past  or  present — everything,  general  or  local, 
whether  belonging  to  national  politics  or  party  pol- 
itics— seems  to  have  attracted  more  or  less  of  the 
honorable  member's  attention,  save  only  the  resolu- 
tion before  us.  He  has  spoken  of  everything  but 
the  public  lands.  They  have  escaped  his  notice. 
To  that  subject,  in  all  his  excursions,  he  has  not  paid 
even  the  cold  respect  of  a  passing  glance. 

When  this  debate,  sir,  was  to  be  resumed  on 
Thursday  morning,  it  so  happened  that  it  would  have 
been  convenient  for  me  to  be  elsewhere.  The  hon- 
orable member,  however,  did  not  incline  to  put  off  the 
discussion  to  another  day.  He  had  a  shot,  he  said, 
to  return,  and  he  wished  to  discharge  it.  That  shot, 
sir,  which  he  was  kind  thus  to  inform  us,  was  coming, 
that  we  might  stand  out  of  the  way,  or  prepare  our- 
selves to  fall  before  it,  and  die  with  decency,  has 
now  been  received.  Under  all  advantages,  and  with 
expectation  awakened  by  the  tone  which  preceded 
it,  it  has  been  discharged,  and  has  spent  its  force. 
It  may  become  me  to  say  no  more  of  its  effect  than 
that,  if  nobody  is  found,  after  all,  either  killed  or 
wounded  by  it,  it  is  not  the  first  time  in  the  history 
of  human  affairs  that  the  vigor  and  success  of  the 
war  have  not  quite  come  up  to  the  lofty  and  sound- 
ing phrase  of  the  manifesto. 

The  gentleman,  sir,  in  declining  to  postpone  the 
debate,  told  the  Senate  with  the  emphasis  of  his  hand 


DANIEL    WEBSTER  89 

upon  his  heart,  that  there  was  something-  rankling 
here,  which  he  wished  to  relieve.  [Mr.  Hayne  rose 
and  disclaimed  having  used  the  word  rankling.]  It 
would  not,  Mr.  President,  be  safe  for  the  honorable 
member  to  appeal  to  those  around  him,  upon  the 
question  whether  he  did,  in  fact,  make  use  of  that 
word.  But  he  may  have  been  unconscious  of  it.  At 
any  rate,  it  is  enough  that  he  disclaims  it.  But  still, 
with  or  without  the  use  of  that  particular  word,  he 
had  yet  something  here,  he  said,  of  which  he  wished 
to  rid  himself  by  an  immediate  reply.  In  this  re- 
spect, sir,  I  have  a  great  advantage  over  the  honora- 
ble gentleman.  There  is  nothing  here,  sir,  which 
gives  me  the  slightest  uneasiness ;  neither  fear,  nor 
anger,  nor  that  which  is  sometimes  more  trouble- 
some than  either,  the  consciousness  of  having  been 
in  the  wrong.  There  is  nothing  either  originating 
here,  or  now  received  here  by  the  gentleman's  shot. 
Nothing  original,  for  I  had  not  the  slightest  feeling 
of  disrespect  or  unkindness  toward  the  honorable 
member.  Some  passages,  it  is  true,  had  occurred 
since  our  acquaintance  in  this  body,  which  I  could 
wish  might  have  been  otherwise ;  but  I  had  used 
philosophy,  and  forgotten  them.  When  the  hon- 
orable member  rose,  in  his  first  speech,  I  paid  him 
the  respect  of  attentive  listening ;  and  when  he  sat 
down,  though  surprised,  and  I  must  say  even  as- 
tonished, at  some  of  his  opinions,  nothing  was  far- 
ther from  my  intention  than  to  commence  any  per- 
sonal warfare  ;  and  through  the  whole  of  the  few 
remarks  I  made  in  answer,  I  avoided,  studiously  and 
carefully,  everything  which  I  thought  possible  to  be 
construed  into  disrespect.  And,  sir,  while  there  is 
thus  nothing  originating  here,  which  I  wished  at  any 
time,  or  now  wish,  to  discharge,  I  must  repeat,  also, 


90  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

that  nothing  has  been  received  here,  which  rankles,  or 
in  any  way  gives  me  annoyance.  I  will  not  accuse  the 
honorable  member  of  violating  the  rules  of  civilized 
war — I  will  not  say  that  he  poisoned  his  arrows. 
But  whether  his  shafts  were,  or  were  not,  dipped  in 
that  which  would  have  caused  rankling  if  they  had 
reached  their  destination  ;  there  was  not,  as  it  hap- 
pened, quite  strength  enough  in  the  bow  to  bring 
them  to  their  mark.  If  he  wishes  now  to  find  those 
shafts,  he  must  look  for  them  elsewhere  ;  they  will 
not  be  found  fixed  and  quivering  in  the  object  at 
which  they  were  aimed. 

The  honorable  member  complained  that  I  had 
slept  on  his  speech.  I  must  have  slept  on  it,  or  not 
slept  at  all.  The  moment  the  honorable  member  sat 
down,  his  friend  from  Missouri  rose,  and,  with  much 
honeyed  commendation  of  the  speech,  suggested 
that  the  impressions  which  it  had  produced  were 
too  charming  and  delightful  to  be  disturbed  by 
other  sentiments  or  other  sounds,  and  proposed  that 
the  Senate  should  adjourn.  Would  it  have  been 
quite  amiable  in  me,  sir,  to  interrupt  this  excellent 
good-feeling?  Must  I  not  have  been  absolutely 
malicious  if  I  could  have  thrust  myself  forward  to 
destroy  sensations  thus  pleasing?  Was  it  not  much 
better  and  kinder  both  to  sleep  upon  them  myself, 
and  to  allow  others,  also,  the  pleasure  of  sleeping 
upon  them  ?  But  if  it  be  meant  by  sleeping  upon 
his  speech  that  I  took  time  to  prepare  a  reply  to  it, 
it  is  quite  a  mistake  ;  owing  to  other  engagements, 
I  could  not  employ  even  the  interval  between  the 
adjournment  of  the  Senate  and  its  meeting  the  next 
morning,  in  attention  to  the  subject  of  this  debate. 
Nevertheless,  sir,  the  mere  matter  of  fact  is  un- 
doubtedly true  —  I  did  sleep  on  the  gentleman's 


DANIEL   WEBSTER  91 

speech,  and  slept  soundly.  And  I  slept  equally 
well  on  his  speech  of  yesterday,  to  which  I  am  now 
replying.  It  is  quite  possible  that,  in  this  respect 
also,  I  possess  some  advantage  over  the  honorable 
member,  attributable,  doubtless,  to  a  cooler  tem- 
perament on  my  part ;  for  in  truth  I  slept  upon  his 
speeches  remarkably  well.  But  the  gentleman  in- 
quires why  he  was  made  the  object  of  such  a  reply. 
Why  was  he  singled  out?  If  an  attack  had  been 
made  on  the  East,  he,  he  assures  us,  did  not  begin 
it — it  was  the  gentleman  from  Missouri.  Sir,  I  an- 
swered the  gentleman's  speech  because  I  happened 
to  hear  it ;  and  because,  also,  I  chose  to  give  an 
answer  to  that  speech,  which,  if  unanswered,  I 
thought  most  likely  to  produce  injurious  impres- 
sions. I  did  not  stop  to  inquire  who  was  the  origi- 
nal drawer  of  the  bill.  I  found  a  responsible  in- 
dorser  before  me,  and  it  was  my  purpose  to  hold 
him  liable,  and  to  bring  him  to  his  just  responsibil- 
ity without  delay.  But,  sir,  this  interrogatory  of 
the  honorable  member  was  only  introductory  to  an- 
other. He  proceeded  to  ask  me  whether  I  had 
turned  upon  him  in  this  debate  from  the  conscious- 
ness that  I  should  find  an  overmatch  if  I  ventured  on 
a  contest  with  his  friend  from  Missouri.  If,  sir,  the 
honorable  member,  ex  gratia  modestice,  had  chosen 
thus  to  defer  to  his  friend,  and  to  pay  him  a  compli- 
ment, without  intentional  disparagement  to  others, 
it  would  have  been  quite  according  to  the  friendly 
courtesies  of  debate,  and  not  at  all  ungrateful  to 
my  own  feelings.  I  am  not  one  of  those,  sir,  who 
esteem  any  tribute  of  regard,  whether  light  and 
occasional,  or  more  serious  and  deliberate,  which 
may  be  bestowed  on  others,  as  so  much  unjustly 
withholden  from  themselves.  But  the  tone  and 


92  PRACTICAL  PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

manner  of  the  gentleman's  question  forbid  me  thus 
to  interpret  it.  I  am  not  at  liberty  to  consider  it  as 
nothing-  more  than  a  civility  to  his  friend.  .It  had 
an  air  of  taunt  and  disparagement,  a  little  of  the 
loftiness  of  asserted  superiority,  which  does  not 
allow  me  to  pass  it  over  without  notice.  It  was  put 
as  a  question  for  me  to  answer,  and  so  put  as  if  it 
were  difficult  for  me  to  answer,  whether  I  deemed 
the  member  from  Missouri  an  overmatch  for  myself 
in  debate  here.  It  seems  to  me,  sir,  that  is  extraor- 
dinary language,  and  an  extraordinary  tone  for  the 
discussions  of  this  body. 

Matches  and  overmatches !  Those  terms  are  more 
applicable  elsewhere  than  here,  and  fitter  for  other 
assemblies  than  this.  Sir,  the  gentleman  seems  to 
forget  where  and  what  we  are.  This  is  a  senate ;  a  sen- 
ate of  equals ;  of  men  of  individual  honor  and  per- 
sonal character,  and  of  absolute  independence.  We 
know  no  masters  ;  we  acknowledge  no  dictators.  This 
is  a  hall  for  mutual  consultation  and  discussion,  not 
an  arena  for  the  exhibition  of  champions.  I  offer 
myself,  sir,  as  a  match  for  no  man ;  I  throw  the 
challenge  of  debate  at  no  man's  feet.  But,  then, 
sir,  since  the  honorable  member  has  put  the  ques- 
tion in  a  manner  that  calls  for  an  answer,  I  will  give 
him  an  answer ;  and  I  tell  him  that,  holding  myself 
to  be  the  humblest  of  the  members  here,  I  yet  know 
nothing  in  the  arm  of  his  friend  from  Missouri, 
either  alone  or  when  aided  by  the  arm  of  his  friend 
from  South  Carolina,  that  need  deter  even  me  from 
espousing  whatever  opinions  I  may  choose  to  es- 
pouse, from  debating  whenever  I  may  choose  to 
debate,  or  from  speaking  whatever  I  may  see  fit  to 
say  on  the  floor  of  the  Senate.  Sir,  when  uttered 
as  matter  of  commendation  or  compliment,  I  should 


DANIEL   WEBSTER  93 

dissent  from  nothing-  which  the  honorable  member 
might  say  of  his  friend.  Still  less  do  I  put  forth 
any  pretensions  of  my  own.  But  when  put  to  me 
as  matter  of  taunt,  I  throw  it  back,  and  say  to  the 
gentleman  that  he  could  possibly  say  nothing-  less 
likely  than  such  a  comparison  to  wound  my  pride  of 
personal  character.  The  anger  of  its  tone  rescued 
the  remark  from  intentional  irony,  which  otherwise 
probably  would  have  been  its  general  acceptation. 
But,  sir,  if  it  be  imagined  that  by  this  mutual  quota- 
tion and  commendation ;  if  it  be  supposed  that,  by 
casting  the  characters  of  the  drama,  assigning  to 
each  his  part — to  one  the  attack,  to  another  the  cry 
of  onset — or  if  it  be  thought  that  by  a  loud  and 
empty  vaunt  of  anticipated  victory  any  laurels  are 
to  be  won  here ;  if  it  be  imagined,  especially,  that 
any  or  all  these  things  will  shake  any  purpose  of 
mine,  I  can  tell  the  honorable  member,  once  for  all, 
that  he  is  greatly  mistaken,  and  that  he  is  dealing 
with  one  of  whose  temper  and  character  he  has  yet 
much  to  learn.  Sir,  I  shall  not  allow  myself,  on  this 
occasion — I  hope  on  no  occasion — to  be  betrayed 
into  any  loss  of  temper ;  but  if  provoked,  as  I  trust 
I  never  shall  allow  myself  to  be,  into  crimination 
and  recrimination,  the  honorable  member  may,  per- 
haps, find  that  in  that  contest  there  will  be  blows  to 
take  as  well  as  blows  to  give  ;  that  others  can  state 
comparisons  as  significant,  at  least,  as  his  own ;  and 
that  his  impunity  may,  perhaps,  demand  of  him 
whatever  powers  of  taunt  and  sarcasm  he  may  pos- 
sess. I  commend  him  to  a  prudent  husbandry  of 
his  resources. 

But,  sir,  the  coalition !  The  coalition !  Ay  "  the 
murdered  coalition ! "  The  gentleman  asks  if  I 
were  led  or  frighted  into  this  debate  by  the  spectre 


94  PRACTICAL  PUBLIC  SPEAKING 

of  the  coalition.  "  "Was  it  the  ghost  of  the  murdered 
coalition,"  he  exclaims, "  which  haunted  the  member 
from  Massachusetts,  and  which,  like  the  ghost  of 
Banquo,  would  never  down  ?  "  "  The  murdered  coal- 
ition ! "  Sir,  this  charge  of  a  coalition,  in  reference 
to  the  late  administration,  is  not  original  with  the 
honorable  member.  It  did  not  spring  up  in  the 
Senate.  Whether  as  a  fact,  as  an  argument,  or  as  an 
embellishment,  it  is  all  borrowed.  He  adopts  it,  in- 
deed,  from  a  very  low  origin,  and  a  still  lower  pres- 
ent condition.  It  is  one  of  the  thousand  calumnies 
with  which  the  press  teemed  during  an  excited  polit- 
ical canvass.  It  was  a  charge  of  which  there  was 
not  only  no  proof  or  probability,  but  which  was,  in 
itself,  wholly  impossible  to  be  true.  No  man  of 
common  information  ever  believed  a  syllable  of  it. 
Yet  it  was  of  that  class  of  falsehoods  which,  by  con- 
tinued repetition  through  all  the  organs  of  detrac- 
tion and  abuse,  are  capable  of  misleading  those  who 
are  already  far  misled,  and  of  further  fanning  pas- 
sion already  kindling  into  flame.  Doubtless  it  served 
its  day,  and  in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  the  end  de- 
signed by  it.  Having  done  that  it  has  sunk  into  the 
general  mass  of  stale  and  loathed  calumnies.  It  is 
the  very  cast-off  slough  of  a  polluted  and  shameless 
press.  Incapable  of  further  mischief,  it  lies  in  the 
sewer,  lifeless  and  despised.  It  is  not  now,  sir,  in 
the  power  of  the  honorable  member  to  give  it  dig- 
nity or  decency,  by  attempting  to  elevate  it,  and  to 
introduce  it  into  the  Senate.  He  cannot  change  it 
from  what  it  is — an  object  of  general  disgust  and 
scorn.  On  the  contrary,  the  contact,  if  he  choose  to 
touch  it,  is  more  likely  to  drag  him  down,  down  to 
the  place  where  it  lies  itself. 
But,  sir,  the  honorable  member  was  not,  for  other 


DANIEL  WEBSTER  95 

reasons,  entirely  happy  in  his  allusion  to  the  story 
of  Banquo's  murder  and  Banquo's  ghost.  It  was 
not,  I  think,  the  friends,  but  the  enemies  of  the  mur- 
dered Banquo,  at  whose  bidding  his  spirit  would 
not  down.  The  honorable  gentleman  is  fresh  in  his 
reading  of  the  English  classics,  and  can  put  me  right 
if  I  am  wrong ;  but  according  to  my  poor  recollec- 
tion, it  was  at  those  who  had  begun  with  caresses, 
and  ended  with  foul  and  treacherous  murder,  that 
the  gory  locks  were  shaken.  The  ghost  of  Banquo, 
like  that  of  Hamlet,  was  an  honest  ghost.  It  dis- 
turbed no  innocent  man.  It  knew  where  its  appear- 
ance would  strike  terror,  and  who  would  cry  out,  A 
ghost !  It  made  itself  visible  in  the  right  quarter, 
and  compelled  the  guilty  and  the  conscience-smitten, 
and  none  others,  to  start  with, 

" Prithee,  see  there !  behold !— look!  lo! 
If  I  stand  here,  I  saw  him  I  " 

Their  eyeballs  were  seared — was  it  not  so,  sir  ? — who 
had  thought  to  shield  themselves  by  concealing  their 
own  hand,  and  laying  the  imputation  of  the  crime 
on  a  low  and  hireling  agency  in  wickedness ;  who 
had  vainly  attempted  to  stifle  the  workings  of  their 
own  coward  consciences ;  by  ejaculating,  through 
white  lips  and  chattering  teeth,  "  Thou  canst  not  say 
I  did  it !  "  I  have  misread  the  great  poet,  if  it  was 
those  who  had  in  no  way  partaken  in  the  deed  of  the 
death,  who  either  found  that  they  were,  or  feared 
that  they  should  be,  pushed  from  their  stools  by  the 
ghost  of  the  slain,  or  who  cried  out  to  a  spectre 
created  by  their  own  fears,  and  their  own  remorse, 
"  Avaunt !  and  quit  our  sight !  " 

There  is  another  particular,  sir,  in  which  the  hon- 
orable member's  quick  perception  of  resemblances 


96  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

might,  I  should  think,  have  seen  something  in  the 
story  of  Banquo,  making  it  not  altogether  a  subject 
of  the  most  pleasant  contemplation.  Those  who 
murdered  Banquo,  what  did  they  win  by  it  ?  Sub- 
stantial good  ?  Permanent  power?  Or  disappoint- 
ment, rather,  and  sore  mortification — dust  and  ashes 
—the  common  fate  of  vaulting  ambition  overleap- 
ing itself?  Did  not  evenhanded  justice,  ere  long, 
commend  the  poisoned  chalice  to  their  own  lips? 
Did  they  not  soon  find  that  for  another  they  had 
"  filed  their  mind  "  ? — that  their  ambition,  though 
apparently  for  the  moment  successful,  had  but  put  a 
barren  sceptre  in  their  grasp  ?  Ay,  sir, — 

"  A  barren  sceptre  in  their  gripe, 

Thence  to  be  wrenched  by  an  unlineal  hand, 

No  son  of  theirs  succeeding." 

Sir,  I  need  pursue  the  allusion  no  further.  I 
leave  the  honorable  gentleman  to  run  it  out  at  his 
leisure,  and  to  derive  from  it  all  the  gratification 
it  is  calculated  to  administer.  If  he  finds  himself 
pleased  with  the  associations,  and  prepared  to  be 
quite  satisfied,  though  the  parallel  should  be  en- 
tirely completed,  I  had  almost  said  I  am  satisfied 
also — but  that  I  shall  think  of.  Yes,  sir,  I  will 
think  of  that. 


CHAPTER  V 

IMPRESSIVENESS 

THE  purpose  of  this  chapter  is  to  direct  the  student 
to  concentration  upon  each  phrase,  or  thought  unit, 
as  distinguished  from  the  mood,  or  emotional  unit. 
As  we  find  speakers  who  seem  to  manifest  no  variety 
of  mood  and  feeling,  so  there  are  those  who  fail  to 
impress  their  thought  detail  upon  an  audience.  Let 
the  student,  then,  clearly  grasp  each  idea  in  the 
following  extracts  and  strive  to  make  his  audience 
see  the  picture.  The  practice  recommended  in  this 
and  in  the  preceding  chapter  will  do  much  toward 
developing  the  sense  of  light  and  shade,  of  propor- 
tion, and  of  variety,  so  essential  to  successful  public 
speaking. 


THE  WONDERS  OF  THE  DA  WN 
EDWARD  EVERETT 

Albany,  N  Y.,  Aug.  28,  1856 

MUCH  as  we  are  indebted  to  our  observatories  for 
elevating  our  conceptions  of  the  heavenly  bodies, 
they  present  even  to  the  unaided  sight  scenes  of  glory 
which  words  are  too  feeble  to  describe.  I  had  occa- 
sion, a  few  weeks  since,  to  take  the  early  train  from 
Providence  to  Boston  ;  and  for  this  purpose  rose  at 
two  o'clock  in  the  morning.  Everything  around  was 
wrapped  in  darkness  and  hushed  in  silence,  broken 
only  by  what  seemed  at  that  hour  the  unearthly  clank 
and  rush  of  the  train.  It  was  a  mild,  serene,  mid- 
summer's night — the  sky  was  without  a  cloud — the 
winds  were  whist.  The  moon,  then  in  the  last 
quarter,  had  just  risen,  and  the  stars  shone  with  a 
spectral  lustre  but  little  affected  by  her  presence. 
Jupiter,  two  hours  high,  was  the  herald  of  the  day ; 
the  Pleiades,  just  above  the  horizon,  shed  their 
sweet  influence  in  the  east ;  Lyra  sparkled  near  the 
zenith ;  Andromeda  veiled  her  newly-discovered 
glories  from  the  naked  eye  in  the  south  ;  the  steady 
pointers  far  beneath  the  pole  looked  meekly  up  from 
the  depth  of  the  north  to  their  sovereign. 

Such  was  the  glorious  spectacle  as  I  entered  the 
train.  As  we  proceeded,  the  timid  approach  of  twi- 
light became  more  perceptible  ;  the  intense  blue  of 

98 


EDWARD   EVERETT  99 

the  sky  began  to  soften ;  the  smaller  stars,  like  little 
children,  went  first  to  rest ;  the  sister-beams  of  the 
Pleiades  soon  melted  together ;  but  the  bright  con- 
stellations of  the  west  and  north  remained  un- 
changed. Steadily  the  wondrous  transfiguration 
went  on.  Hands  of  angels  hidden  from  mortal  eyes 
shifted  the  scenery  of  the  heavens  :  the  glories  of 
night  dissolved  into  the  glories  of  the  dawn.  The 
blue  sky  now  turned  more  softly  gray;  the  great 
watch-stars  shut  up  their  holy  eyes  ;  the  east  began 
to  kindle.  Faint  streaks  of  purple  soon  blushed 
along  the  sky  ;  the  whole  celestial  concave  was  filled 
with  the  inflowing  tides  of  the  morning  light,  which 
came  pouring  down  from  above  in  one  great  ocean 
of  radiance ;  till  at  length,  as  we  reached  the  Blue 
Hills,  a  flash  of  purple  fire  blazed  out  from  above 
the  horizon,  and  turned  the  dewy  tear-drops  of 
flower  and  leaf  into  rubies  and  diamonds.  In  a  few 
seconds  the  everlasting  gates  of  the  morning  were 
thrown  wide  open,  and  the  lord  of  day,  arrayed  in 
glories  too  severe  for  the  gaze  of  man,  began  his 
state. 


AVALANCHES  OF  THE  JUNGFRAU' 
G.  B.  CHEEVEE 

"Wanderings  of  a  Pilgrim  in  the  Shadow  of  Mont  Slant 

SUDDENLY  an  enormous  mass  of  snow  and  ice,  in 
itself  a  mountain,  seems  to  move ;  it  breaks  from 
the  toppling-  outmost  mountain  ridge  of  snow, 
where  it  is  hundreds  of  feet  in  depth,  and  in  its  first 
fall  of  perhaps  two  thousand  feet  is  broken  into 
millions  of  fragments.  As  you  first  see  the  flash  of 
distant  artillery  by  night,  then  hear  the  roar,  so 
here  you  may  see  the  white  flashing  mass  majes- 
tically bowing,  then  hear  the  astounding  din.  A 
cloud  of  dusty,  dry  snow  rises  into  the  air  from  the 
concussion,  forming  a  white  volume  of  fleecy  smoke, 
or  misty  light,  from  the  bosom  of  which  thunders 
forth  the  icy  torrent  in  its  second  prodigious  fall 
over  the  rocky  battlements.  The  eye  follows  it,  de- 
lighted, as  it  ploughs  through  the  path  which  pre- 
ceding avalanches  have  worn,  till  it  comes  to  the 
brink  of  a  vast  ridge  of  bare  rock,  perhaps  more 
than  two  thousand  feet  perpendicular ;  then  pours 
the  whole  cataract  over  the  gulf,  with  a  still  louder 
roar  of  echoing  thunder,  to  which  nothing  but  the 
noise  of  Niagara  in  its  sublimity  is  comparable. 

Another  fall  of  still  greater  depth  ensues,  over  a 
second  similar  castellated  ridge  or  reef  in  the  sur- 
face of  the  mountain,  with  an  awful,  majestic  slow- 

100 


G.    B.    CHEEVEK  101 

ness,  and  a  tremendous  crash  in  its  concussion, 
awakening  again  the  reverberating  peals  of  thunder. 
Then  the  torrent  roars  on  to  another  smaller  fall, 
till  at  length  it  reaches  a  mighty  groove  of  snow 
and  ice.  Here  its  progress  is  slower ;  and  last  of 
all  you  listen  to  the  roar  of  the  falling  fragments,  as 
they  drop  out  of  sight,  with  a  dead  weight,  into  the 
bottom  of  the  gulf,  to  rest  there  forever. 

Figure  to  yourself  a  cataract  like"  that  of  Niagara, 
poured  in  foaming  grandeur,  not  raeuedy  over  one 
great  precipice  of  two  hundred  feec,  bat  over  the 
successive  ridgy  precipices  of  two  or  three  thousand, 
in  the  face  of  a  mountain  eleven  thousand  feet  high, 
and  tumbling,  crashing,  thundering  down  with  a 
continuous  din  of  far  greater  sublimity  than  the 
sound  of  the  grandest  cataract.  The  roar  of  the 
falling  mass  begins  to  be  heard  the  moment  it  is 
loosened  from  the  mountain  ;  it  pours  on  with  the 
sound  of  a  vast  body  of  rushing  water  ;  then  comes 
the  first  great  concussion,  a  booming  crash  of  thun- 
ders, breaking  on  the  still  air  in  mid-heaven  ;  your 
breath  is  suspended,  and  you  listen  and  look ;  the 
mighty  glittering  mass  shoots  headlong  over  the 
main  precipice,  and  the  fall  is  so  great  that  it  pro- 
duces to  the  eye  that  impression  of  dread  majestic 
slowness  of  which  I  have  spoken,  though  it  is 
doubtless  more  rapid  than  Niagara.  But  if  you 
should  see  the  cataract  of  Niagara  itself  coming 
down  five  thousand  feet  above  you  in  the  air,  there 
would  be  the  same  impression.  The  image  remains 
in  the  mind,  and  can  never  fade  from  it ;  it  is  as  if 
you  had  seen  an  alabaster  cataract  from  heaven. 
The  sound  is  far  more  sublime  than  that  of  Niagara, 
because  of  the  preceding  stillness  in  those  Alpine 
solitudes.  In  the  midst  of  such  silence  and  solem- 


102  PRACTICAL  PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

nity,  from  out  the  bosom  of  those  glorious,  glitter- 
ing forms  of  nature,  comes  that  rushing,  crashing 
thunder-burst  of  sound !  If  it  were  not  that  your 
soul,  through  the  eye,  is  as  filled  and  fixed  with  the 
sublimity  of  the  vision  as,  through  the  sense  of 
hearing,  with  that  of  the  audible  report,  methinks 
you  would  wish  to  bury  your  face  in  your  hands, 
and  fall  prostrate,;  as  at  the  voice  of  the  Eternal. 


THE  FIEST  VIEW  OF  THE  HEAVENS 
O.  M.  MITCHEL 

Cincinnati  College,  Cincinnati,  Ohio,  1842 

OFTEN  have  I  swept  backward,  in  imagination,  six 
thousand  years,  and  stood  beside  our  great  ances- 
tor, as  he  gazed  for  the  first  time  upon  the  going 
down  of  the  sun.  What  strange  sensations  must 
have  swept  through  his  bewildered  mind,  as  he 
watched  the  last  departing  ray  of  the  sinking  orb, 
unconscious  whether  he  should  ever  behold  its  re- 
turn. 

Wrapped  in  a  maze  of  thought,  strange  and 
startling,  he  suffers  his  eye  to  linger  long  about  the 
point  at  which  the  sun  had  slowly  faded  from  view. 
A  mysterious  darkness  creeps  over  the  face  of  Na- 
ture ;  the  beautiful  scenes  of  earth  are  slowly  fad- 
ing, one  by  one,  from  his  dimmed  vision. 

A  gloom  deeper  than  that  which  covers  earth 
steals  across  the  mind  of  earth's  solitary  inhabitant. 
He  raises  his  inquiring  gaze  toward  heaven ;  and 
lo !  a  silver  crescent  of  light,  clear  and  beautiful, 
hanging  in  the  western  sky,  meets  his  astonished 
gaze.  The  young  moon  charms  his  untutored  vi- 
sion, and  leads  him  upward  to  her  bright  attendants, 
which  are  now  stealing,  one  by  one,  from  out  the 
deep  blue  sky.  The  solitary  gazer  bows,  wonders, 
and  adores. 

103 


104  PEACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

The  hours  glide  by  ;  the  silver  moon  is  gone  ;  the 
stars  are  rising,  slowly  ascending  the  heights  of 
heaven,  and  solemnly  sweeping  downward  in  the 
stillness  of  the  night.  A  faint  streak  of  rosy  light 
is  seen  in  the  east ;  it  brightens ;  the  stars  fade ; 
the  planets  are  extinguished ;  the  eye  is  fixed  in 
mute  astonishment  on  the  growing  splendor,  till 
the  first  rays  of  the  returning  sun  dart  their  radi- 
ance 011  the  young  earth  and  its  solitary  inhabitant. 

The  curiosity  excited  on  this  first  solemn  night, 
the  consciousness  that  in  the  heavens  God  hath  de- 
clared his  glory,  the  eager  desire  to  comprehend 
the  mysteries  that  dwell  in  their  bright  orbs,  have 
clung,  through  the  long  lapse  of  six  thousand  years, 
to  the  descendants  of  him  who  first  watched  and 
wondered.  In  this  boundless  field  of  investigation, 
human  genius  has  won  its  most  signal  victories. 

Generation  after  generation  has  rolled  away,  age 
after  age  has  swept  silently  by;  but  each  has 
swelled,  by  its  contributions,  the  stream  of  discov- 
ery. Mysterious  movements  have  been  unravelled ; 
mighty  laws  have  been  revealed;  ponderous  orbs 
have  been  weighed  ;  one  barrier  after  another  has 
given  way  to  the  force  of  intellect ;  until  the  mind, 
majestic  in  its  strength,  has  mounted,  step  by  step, 
up  the  rocky  height  of  its  self-built  pyramid,  from 
whose  star-crowned  summit  it  looks  out  upon  the 
grandeur  of  the  universe  self-clothed  with  the  pre- 
science of  a  God. 


REGTTLJJS  TO  THE  CARTHAGINIANS 
E.  KELLOGG 

THE  beams  of  the  rising  sun  had  gilded  the  lofty 
domes  of  Carthage,  and  given,  with  its  rich  and  mel- 
low light,  a  tinge  of  beauty  even  to  the  frowning 
ramparts  of  the  outer  harbor.  Sheltered  by  the 
verdant  shores,  an  hundred  triremes  were  riding 
proudly  at  their  anchors,  their  brazen  beaks  glitter- 
ing in  the  sun,  their  streamers  dancing  in  the  morn- 
ing breeze,  while  many  a  shattered  plank  and  timber 
gave  evidence  of  desperate  conflicts  with  the  fleets 
of  Home. 

No  murmur  of  business  or  of  revelry  arose  from 
the  city.  The  artisan  had  forsaken  his  shop,  the 
judge  his  tribunal,  the  priest  his  sanctuary,  and 
even  the  stern  stoic  had  come  forth  from  his  retire- 
ment to  mingle  with  the  crowd  that,  anxious  and 
agitated,  were  rushing  toward  the  senate-house, 
startled  by  the  report  that  Regulus  had  returned  to 
Carthage*^ 

Onward,  still  onward,  trampling  each  other  under 
foot,  they  rushed,  furious  with  anger  and  eager  for 
revenge.  Fathers  were  there,  whose  sons  were 
groaning  in  fetters ;  maidens,  whose  lovers,  weak 
and  wounded,  were  dying  in  the  dungeons  of  Rome ; 
and  gray -haired  men  and  matrons,  whom  the  Eoman 
sword  had  left  childless. 

But  when  the  stern  features  of  Eegulus  were  seen, 
105 


106  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

and  his  colossal  form  towering-  above  the  ambas- 
sadors who  had  returned  with  him  from  Eome ; 
when  the  news  passed  from  lip  to  lip  that  the 
dreaded  warrior,  so  far  from  advising  the  Roman 
senate  to  consent  to  an  exchange  of  prisoners,  had 
urged  to  pursue,  with  exterminating  vengeances 
Carthage  and  the  Carthaginians,  —  the  multitude 
swayed  to  and  fro  like  a  forest  beneath  a  tempest, 
and  the  rage  and  hate  of  that  tumultuous  throng 
vented  itself  in  groans,  and  curses,  and  yells  of  ven- 
geance. But  calm,  cold,  and  immovable  as  the  mar- 
ble walls  around  him  stood  the  Eoman ;  and  he 
stretched  out  his  hand  over  that  frenzied  crowd, 
with  gesture  as  proudly  commanding  as  though  he 
still  stood  at  the  head  of  the  gleaming  cohorts  of 
Eome. 

The  tumult  ceased  ;  the  curse,  half  muttered,  died 
upon  the  lip ;  and  so  intense  was  the  silence,  that 
the  clanking  of  the  brazen  manacles  upon  the  wrists 
of  the  captive  fell  sharp  and  full  upon  every  ear  in 
that  vast  assembly,  as  he  thus  addressed  them  : 

"Ye  doubtless  thought — for  ye  judge  of  Eoman 
virtue  by  your  own — that  I  would  break  my  plighted 
oath,  rather  than,  returning,  brook  your  vengeance. 
If  the  bright  blood  that  fills  my  veins,  transmitted 
free  from  godlike  ancestry,  were  like  that  slimy 
ooze  which  stagnates  in  your  arteries,  I  had  remained 
at  home,  and  broke  my  plighted  oath  to  save  my 
life. 

"  I  am  a  Eoman  citizen ;  therefore  have  I  re- 
turned, that  ye  might  work  your  will  upon  this  mass 
of  flesh  and  bones,  that  I  esteem  no  higher  than  the 
rags  that  cover  them.  Here,  in  your  capital,  do  I 
defy  you.  Have  I  not  conquered  your  armies,  fired 
your  towns,  and  dragged  your  generals  at  my  char- 


E.    KELLOGG  107 

lot  wheels,  since  first  my  youthful  arms  could  wield 
a  spear  ?  And  do  you  think  to  see  me  crouch  and 
cower  before  a  tamed  and  shattered  senate  ?  The 
tearing-  of  flesh  and  rending  of  sinews  is  but  pastime 
compared  with  the  mental  agony  that  heaves  my 
frame. 

"The  moon  has  scarce  yet  waned  since  the 
proudest  of  Eome's  proud  matrons,  the  mother 
upon  whose  breast  I  slept,  and  whose  fair  brow  so 
oft  had  bent  over  me  before  the  noise  of  battle  had 
stirred  my  blood,  or  the  fierce  toil  of  war  nerved  my 
sinews,  did  with  fondest  memory  of  bygone  hours 
entreat  me  to  remain.  I  have  seen  her,  who,  when 
my  country  called  me  to  the  field,  did  buckle  on  my 
harness  with  trembling  hands,  while  the  tears  fell 
thick  and  fast  down  the  hard  corselet  scales — I  have 
seen  her  tear  her  gray  locks  and  beat  her  aged 
breast,  as  on  her  knees  she  begged  me  not  to  return 
to  Carthage  ;  and  all  the  assembled  senate  of  Rome, 
grave  and  reverend  men,  proffered  the  same  request. 
The  puny  torments  which  ye  have  in  store  to  wel- 
come me  withal,  shall  be,  to  what  I  have  endured, 
even  as  the  murmur  of  a  summer's  brook  to  the 
fierce  roar  of  angry  surges  on  a  rocky  beach. 

"  Last  night,  as  I  lay  fettered  in  my  dungeon,  I 
heard  a  strange,  ominous  sound  :  it  seemed  like  the 
distant  march  of  some  vast  army,  their  harness  clank- 
ing as  they  marched,  when  suddenly  there  stood  by 
me  Xanthippus,  the  Spartan  general,  by  whose  aid 
you  conquered  me,  and,  with  a  voice  low  as  when 
the  solemn  wind  moans  through  the  leafless  forest, 
he  thus  addressed  me  :  '  Roman,  I  come  to  bid  thee 
curse,  with  thy  dying  breath,  this  fated  city ;  know 
that,  in  an  evil  moment,  the  Carthaginian  generals, 
furious  with  rage  that  I  had  conquered  thee,  their 


108  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

conqueror,  did  basely  murder  me.  And  then  they 
thought  to  stain  my  brightest  honor.  But,  for  this 
foul  deed,  the  wrath  of  Jove  shall  rest  upon  them 
here  and  hereafter.'  And  then  he  vanished. 

"And  now,  go  bring  your  sharpest  torments. 
The  woes  I  see  impending  over  this  guilty  realm 
shall  be  enough  to  sweeten  death,  though  every 
nerve  and  artery  were  a  shooting  pang.  I  die  !  but 
my  death  shall  prove  a  proud  triumph ;  and,  for 
every  drop  of  blood  ye  from  my  veins  do  draw,  your 
own  shall  flow  in  rivers.  Woe  to  thee,  Carthage! 
Woe  to  the  proud  city  of  the  waters!  I  see  thy 
nobles  wailing  at  the  feet  of  Roman  senators !  thy 
citizens  in  terror !  thy  ships  in  flames !  I  hear  the 
victorious  shouts  of  Rome !  I  see  her  eagles  glitter- 
ing on  thy  ramparts !  Proud  city,  thou  art  doomed ! 
The  curse  of  God  is  on  thee — a  clinging,  wasting 
curse.  It  shall  not  leave  thy  gates  till  hungry 
flames  shall  lick  the  gold  from  off  thy  proud  pal- 
aces, and  every  brook  run  crimson  to  the  sea." 


CHAPTEB  VI 

CONTRAST 

THE  contrast  is  an  artistic  device  by  means  of 
which  any  given  idea  is  made  more  striking  by  set- 
ting it  over  against  its  opposite.  Sometimes  the 
contrast  is  merely  of  ideas,  but  quite  as  often  it  is  of 
emotional  states.  To  make  this  distinction  clear  let 
the  student  compare  the  second  paragraph  of  Tact 
and  Talent  with  the  second  paragraph  of  Spartacus 
to  the  Gladiators.  In  the  former,  Tact  is  set  over 
against  Talent,  and  there  is  virtually  but  one  mood. 
In  the  latter,  we  have  a  touching  picture  of  the 
happy  early  life  of  Spartacus  contrasted  with  the 
ruin  and  desolation  of  his  home  after  the  invasion  of 
the  Romans.  As  Spartacus  dwells  upon  his  boy- 
hood days,  and  especially  the  loving  care  of  his 
mother,  his  voice  is  full  of  tenderness  ;  but  in  a  mo- 
ment this  gives  way  to  grief,  violent  rage,  and  feelings 
of  revenge,  as  he  recalls  the  massacre  of  his  parents 
and  the  ruin  of  his  home. 


100 


TACT  AND   TALENT 
LONDON  ATLAS 

TALENT  is  something,  but  tact  is  everything. 
Talent  is  serious,  sober,  grave,  and  respectable  ;  tact 
is  all  that,  and  more  too.  It  is  not  a  sixth  sense,  but 
it  is  the  life  of  all  the  five.  It  is  the  open  eye,  the 
quick  ear,  the  judging  taste,  the  keen  smell,  and  the 
lively  touch  ;  it  is  the  interpreter  of  all  riddles,  the 
surmounter  of  all  difficulties,  the  remover  of  all  ob- 
stacles. It  is  useful  in  all  places,  and  at  all  times ; 
it  is  useful  in  solitude,  for  it  shows  a  man  his  way 
into  the  world  ;  it  is  useful  in  society,  for  it  shows 
him  his  way  through  the  world. 

Talent  is  power,  tact  is  skill ;  talent  is  weight, 
tact  is  momentum  ;  talent  knows  what  to  do,  tact 
knows  how  to  do  it ;  talent  makes  a  man  respectable, 
tact  will  make  him  respected  ;  talent  is  wealth,  tact 
is  ready  money. 

For  all  the  practical  purposes  of  life,  tact  car- 
ries it  against  talent,  ten  to  one.  Take  them  to  the 
theatre,  and  put  them  against  each  other  on  the 
stage,  and  talent  shall  produce  you  a  tragedy  that 
will  scarcely  live  long  enough  to  be  condemned, 
while  tact  keeps  the  house  in  a  roar,  night  after 
night,  with  its  successful  farces.  There  is  no  want 
of  dramatic  talent,  there  is  no  want  of  dramatic 
tact ;  but  they  are  seldom  together  :  so  we  have  suc- 
cessful pieces  which  are  not  respectable,  and  respect- 
able pieces  which  are  not  successful. 

110 


LONDON   ATLAS  111 

Take  them  to  the  bar,  and  let  them  shake  their 
learned  curls  at  each  other  in  legal  rivalry.  Talent 
sees  its  way  clearly,  but  tact  is  first  at  its  journey's 
end.  Talent  has  many  a  compliment  from  the  bench, 
but  tact  touches  fees  from  attorneys  and  clients. 
Talent  speaks  learnedly  and  logically,  tact  trium- 
phantly. Talent  makes  the  world  wonder  that  it  gets 
on  no  faster,  tact  excites  astonishment  that  it  gets  on 
so  fast.  And  the  secret  is,  that  tact  has  no  weight 
to  carry ;  it  makes  no  false  steps ;  it  hits  the  right 
nail  on  the  head  ;  it  loses  no  time  ;  it  takes  all  hints ; 
and,  by  keeping  its  eye  on  the  weathercock,  is  ready 
to  take  advantage  of  every  wind  that  blows. 

Take  them  into  the  church.  Talent  has  always 
something  worth  hearing,  tact  is  sure  of  abundance 
of  hearers  ;  talent  may  obtain  a  good  living,  tact  will 
make  one  ;  talent  gets  a  good  name,  tact  a  great  one  ; 
talent  convinces,  tact  converts  ;  talent  is  an  honor  to 
the  profession,  tact  gains  honor  from  the  profession, 

Place  them  in  the  senate.  Talent  has  the  ear 
of  the  house,  but  tact  wins  its  heart,  and  has  its 
votes  ;  talent  is  fit  for  employment,  but  tact  is  fitted 
for  it.  Tact  has  a  knack  of  slipping  into  place  with 
a  sweet  silence  and  glibness  of  movement,  as  a  bill- 
iard ball  insinuates  itself  into  the  pocket.  It  seems 
to  know  everything,  without  learning  anything.  It 
has  served  an  invisible  and  extemporary  apprentice- 
ship :  it  wants  no  drilling ;  it  never  ranks  in  the 
awkward  squad  ;  it  has  no  left  hand,  no  deaf  ear,  no 
blind  side.  It  puts  on  no  looks  of  wondrous  wisdom, 
it  has  no  air  of  profundity,  but  plays  with  the  de- 
tails of  place  as  dexterously  as  a  well-taught  hand 
flourishes  over  the  keys  of  the  pianoforte.  It  has 
all  the  air  of  commonplace,  and  all  the  force  and 
power  of  genius. 


ROME  AND  CARTHAGE 
VICTOE  HUGO 

EOME  and  Carthage!  behold  them  drawing-  near 
for  the  struggle  that  is  to  shake  the  world!  Carthage, 
the  metropolis  of  Africa,  is  the  mistress  of  oceans,  of 
kingdoms,  and  of  nations ;  a  magnificent  city,  bur- 
dened with  opulence,  radiant  with  the  strange  arts 
and  trophies  of  the  East.  She  is  at  the  acme  of  her 
civilization  ;  she  can  mount  no  higher ;  any  change 
now  must  be  a  decline.  Kome  is  comparatively 
poor.  She  has  seized  all  within  her  grasp,  but  rather 
from  the  lust  of  conquest  than  to  fill  her  own  coffers. 
She  is  demi -barbarous,  and  has  her  education  and 
her  fortune  both  to  get.  All  is  before  her,  nothing 
behind. 

For  a  time  these  two  nations  exist  in  view  of  each 
other.  The  one  reposes  in  the  noontide  of  her  splen- 
dor ;  the  other  waxes  strong  in  the  shade.  But, 
.little  by  little,  air  and  space  are  wanting  to  each,  for 
her  development.  Eome  begins  to  perplex  Car- 
thage, and  Carthage  is  an  eyesore  to  Eome.  Seated 
on  opposite  banks  of  the  Mediterranean,  the  two 
cities  look  each  other  in  the  face.  The  sea  no  longer 
keeps  them  apart !  Europe  and  Africa  weigh  upon 
each  other.  Like  two  clouds  surcharged  with  elec- 
tricity, they  impend  ;  with  their  contact  must  come 
the  thunder  shock.  The  catastrophe  of  this  splendid 
drama  is  at  hand.  What  actors  are  met !  Two  races, 

112 


VICTOR   HUGO  113 

that  of  merchants  and  mariners,  that  of  laborers 
and  soldiers ;  two  nations,  the  one  dominant  by 
gold,  the  other  by  steel ;  two  republics,  the  one  the- 
ocratic, the  other  aristocratic  ; — Borne  and  Carthage ! 
Home  with  her  army,  Carthage  with  her  fleet :  Car- 
thage, old,  rich,  and  crafty ;  Borne,  young,  poor,  ro- 
bust ;  the  past,  and  the  future ;  the  spirit  of  dis- 
covery, and  the  spirit  of  conquest ;  the  genius  of 
commerce,  and  the  demon  of  war ;  the  East  and 
South  on  one  side,  the  West  and  North  on  the  other ; 
in  short,  two  worlds, — the  civilization  of  Africa,  and 
the  civilization  of  Europe. 

They  measure  each  other  from  head  to  foot.  They 
gather  all  their  forces.  Gradually  the  war  kindles. 
The  world  takes  fire.  These  colossal  powers  are 
locked  in  deadly  strife.  Carthage  has  crossed  the 
Alps  ;  Borne,  the  seas.  The  two  nations,  personi- 
fied in  two  men,  Hannibal  and  Scipio,  close  with 
each  other,  wrestle,  and  grow  infuriate.  The  duel  is 
desperate.  It  is  a  struggle  for  life.  Borne  wavers ; 
she  utters  that  cry  of  anguish,  "  Hannibal  at  the 
gates ! "  But  she  rallies,  collects  all  her  strength 
for  one  last,  appalling  effort,  throws  herself  upon 
Carthage,  and  sweeps  her  from  the  face  of  che  earth. 


SPABTACUS  TO  THE  GLADIATOBS 
E.  KELLOGG 

IT  had  been  a  day  of  triumph  in  Capua.  Lentulus, 
returning  with  victorious  eagles,  had  amused  the 
populace  with  the  sports  of  the  amphitheatre  to  an 
extent  hitherto  unknown  even  in  that  luxurious  city. 
The  shouts  of  revelry  had  died  away  ;  the  roar  of  the 
lion  had  ceased ;  the  last  loiterer  had  retired  from 
the  banquet,  and  the  lights  in  the  palace  of  the  victor 
were  extinguished.  The  moon,  piercing  the  tissue 
of  fleecy  clouds,  silvered  the  dew-drops  on  the  corse- 
let of  the  Roman  sentinel,  and  tipped  the  dark  waters 
of  the  Vulturnus  with  a  wavy,  tremulous  light.  No 
sound  was  heard,  save  the  last  sob  of  some  retiring 
wave,  telling  its  story  to  the  smooth  pebbles  of  the 
beach ;  and  then  all  was  still  as  the  breast  when  the 
spirit  has  departed.  In  the  deep  recesses  of  the  am- 
phitheatre a  band  of  gladiators  were  assembled,  their 
muscles  still  knotted  with  the  agony  of  conflict,  the 
foam  upon  their  lips,  the  scowl  of  battle  yet  linger- 
ing on  their  brows,  when  Spartacus,  starting  forth 
from  amid  the  throng,  thus  addressed  them  : 

"  Ye  call  me  chief ;  and  ye  do  well  to  call  him  chief 
who,  for  twelve  long  years,  has  met  upon  the  arena 
every  shape  of  man  or  beast  the  broad  empire  of 
Rome  could  furnish,  and  who  never  yet  lowered  his 
arm.  If  there  be  one  among  you  who  can  say  that 
ever,  in  public  fight  or  private  brawl,  my  actions  did 

114 


E.   KELLOGG  115 

belie  my  tongue,  let  him  stand  forth  and  say  it.  If 
there  be  three  in  all  your  company  dare  face  me  on  the 
bloody  sands,  let  them  come  on.  And  yet  I  was  not 
always  thus, — a  hired  butcher,  a  savage  chief  of  still 
more  savage  men !  My  ancestors  came  from  old  Sparta, 
and  settled  among  the  vine-clad  rocks  and  citron- 
groves  of  Syrasella.  My  early  life  ran  quiet  as  the 
brooks  by  which  I  sported;  and  when  at  noon  I 
gathered  the  sheep  beneath  the  shade,  and  played 
upon  the  shepherd's  flute,  there  was  a  friend,  the 
son  of  a  neighbor,  to  join  me  in  the  pastime.  We 
led  our  flocks  to  the  same  pasture,  and  partook  to- 
gether of  our  rustic  meal.  One  evening,  after  the 
sheep  were  folded,  and  we  were  all  seated  beneath 
the  myrtle  which  shaded  our  cottage,  my  grandsire, 
an  old  man,  was  telling  of  Marathon  and  Leuctra, 
and  how,  in  ancient  times,  a  little  band  of  Spartans, 
in  a  defile  of  the  mountains,  had  withstood  a  whole 
army.  I  did  not  then  know  what  war  was  ;  but  my 
cheeks  burned,  I  knew  not  why,  and  I  clasped  the 
knees  of  that  venerable  man,  until  my  mother,  part- 
ing the  hair  from  off  my  forehead,  kissed  my  throb- 
bing temples  and  bade  me  go  to  rest,  and  think  no 
more  of  those  old  tales  and  savage  wars.  That  very 
night  the  Romans  landed  on  our  coast.  I  saw  the 
breast  that  had  nourished  me  trampled  by  the  hoof 
of  the  war-horse,  and  the  bleeding  body  of  my  father 
flung  amidst  the  blazing  rafters  of  our  dwelling  ! 

"  To-day  I  killed  a  man  in  the  arena,  and  when  I 
broke  his  helmet-clasps,  behold !  he  was  my  friend. 
He  knew  me,  smiled  faintly,  gasped,  and  died ; — 
the  same  sweet  smile  upon  his  -lips  that  I  had 
marked,  when,  in  adventurous  boyhood,  we  scaled 
the  lofty  cliff  to  pluck  the  first  ripe  grapes,  and  bear 
them  home  in  childish  triumph.  I  told  the  praetor 


116  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

that  the  dead  man  had  been  my  friend,  generous 
and  brave,  and  I  begged  that  I  might  bear  away  the 
body,  to  burn  it  on  a  funeral  pile,  and  mourn  over 
its  ashes.  Ay,  upon  my  knees,  amid  the  dust  and 
blood  of  the  arena,  I  begged  that  poor  boon,  while 
all  the  assembled  maids  and  matrons,  and  the  holy 
virgins  they  call  Yestals,  and  the  rabble,  shouted  in 
dqfrision,  deeming  it  rare  sport,  forsooth,  to  see 
Rome's  fiercest  gladiator  turn  pale  and  tremble  at 
sight  of  that  piece  of  bleeding  clay.  And  the 
praetor  drew  back,  as  if  I  were  pollution,  and  sternly 
said,  '  Let  the  carrion  rot ;  there  are  no  noble  men 
but  Romans.'  And  so,  fellow-gladiators,  must  you, 
and  so  must  I,  die  like  dogs.  O  Rome,  Rome,  thou 
hast  been  a  tender  nurse  to  me.  Ay,  thou  hast 
given  to  that  poor,  gentle,  timid  shepherd  lad,  who 
never  knew  a  harsher  tone  than  a  flute-note,  muscles 
of  iron  and  a  heart  of  flint ;  taught  him  to  drive 
the  sword  through  plaited  mail  and  links  of  rugged 
brass,  and  warm  it  in  the  marrow  of  his  foe  ; — to 
gaze  into  the  glaring  eye-balls  of  the  fierce  Numid- 
ian  lion,  even  as  a  boy  upon  a  laughing  girl.  And 
he  shall  pay  thee  back,  until  the  yellow  Tiber  is  red 
as  frothing  wine,  and  in  its  deepest  ooze  thy  life- 
blood  lies  curdled. 

"  Ye  stand  here  now  like  giants,  as  ye  are.  The 
strength  of  brass  is  in  your  toughened  sinews ;  but 
to-morrow  some  Roman  Adonis,  breathing  sweet 
perfume  from  his  curly  locks,  shall  with  his  lily 
fingers  pat  your  red  brawn,  and  bet  his  sesterces 
upon  your  blood.  Hark  !  hear  ye  yon  lion  roaring 
in  his  den?  'Tis  three  days  since  he  tasted  flesh, 
but  to-morrow  he  shall  break  his  fast  upon  yours,— 
and  a  dainty  meal  for  him  ye  will  be !  If  ye  are 
beasts,  then  stand  here  like  fat  oxen,  waiting  for  the 


E.    KELLOGG  117 

butcher's  knife !  If  ye  are  men, — follow  me  !  Strike 
down  yon  guard,  gain  the  mountain  passes,  and 
there  do  bloody  work,  as  did  your  sires  at  old 
Thermopylae.  Is  Sparta  dead  ?  Is  the  old  Grecian 
spirit  frozen  in  your  veins,  that  you  do  crouch  and 
cower  like  a  belabored  hound  beneath  his  master's 
lash  ?  O  comrades,  warriors,  Thracians, — if  we  must 
fight,  let  us  fight  for  ourselves!  If  we  must  slaughter, 
let  us  slaughter  our  oppressors  !  If  we  must  die,  let 
it  be  under  the  clear  sky,  by  the  bright  waters,  in 
noble,  honorable  battle  1 " 


CHAPTEK  YII 


GENUNG  says  of  Climax :  "  This  figure,  which  de- 
pends upon  the  law  that  a  thought  must  have  prog- 
ress, is  the  ordering  of  thought  and  expression  so 
that  there  shall  be  uniform  and  evident  increase  in 
significance,  or  interest,  or  intensity." 

The  climax  of  Significance  is  illustrated  in — 

The  artisan  had  forsaken  his  shop,  the  judge  his  tribunal, 
the  priest  the  sanctuary,  and  even  the  stern  stoic  had  come 
forth  from  his  retirement. 

The  artisan,  who  could  ill  afford  to  lose  his  day's 
labor,  had  left  his  shop  to  join  the  throng  that  was 
taking  its  way  to  the  great  square  of  the  city.  The 
judge,  whose  duty  it  was  to  administer  justice,  could 
not  refrain  from  joining  the  crowd.  The  priest, 
whose  sacred  oflice  was  to  tend  the  altars  of  the  gods, 
he  too,  for  once,  was  neglecting  his  duty.  And  even 
the  stern  stoic,  whose  philosophy  taught  him  to 
remain  unmoved  under  any  and  all  conditions  of  life, 
even  he,  perforce,  must  mix  with  the  multitude 
thronging  the  Carthaginian  streets.  Each  succeed- 

*The  following  presentation  is  taken  with  slight  modification 
from  Principles  of  Vocal  Expression,  by  Chamberlain  and  Clark. 

118 


CLIMAX  119 

ing  clause  presents  to  us  a  more  unusual  disturbance 
of  the  normal  condition  of  Carthaginian  affairs ;  and 
the  climax  is  reached  when  the  man  whose  whole 
philosophy  teaches  him  never  to  be  moved,  even  he, 
is  impelled  to  do  violence  to  his  life-long  convictions. 
The  following  illustrates  the  climax  of  Intensity : 

If  I  were  an  American,  as  I  am  an  Englishman,  while  a 
foreign  troop  was  landed  in  my  country,  I  never  would  lay 
down  my  arms  !  Never  !  Never  I  Never  ! 

The  verbal  expression  does  not  progress ;  and  yet 
the  emotion,  increasing  in  force  as  the  mind  dwells 
upon  the  thought,  finds  vent  in  increasing  intensity 
of  vocal  expression.  Greater  intensity  is  not  neces- 
sarily greater  loudness  or  higher  pitch ;  but  greater 
intensity  of  feeling,  which  may  result  in  greater  loud- 
ness  or  higher  pitch,  or,  on  the  other  hand,  in  lower 
pitch  and  more  controlled  or  more  dignified  expres- 
sion. 

We  have  thus  far  been  considering  simple  and 
palpable  forms  of  climaxes.  Let  us  turn  now  to  the 
examination  of  the  more  difficult  and  complex.  We 
recall  the  fact  that  Marullus,  in  the  play  of  Julius 
Ccesar,  is  greatly  surprised  that  the  citizens  of  Rome 
should  dress  themselves  in  their  best  garb  and  make 
holiday  to  celebrate  the  return  of  Caesar.  One  of 
the  crowd  remarks  that  they  make  holiday  to  see 
Caesar,  and  to  rejoice  in  his  triumph,  whereupon 
Marullus  addresses  them  in  the  speech  given  below. 

Mar.  Wherefore  rejoice  ?    What  conquest  brings  he  home  ? 
What  tributaries  follow  him  to  Rome, 


120  PKACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

To  grace  in  captive  bonds  his  chariot  wheels? 

You  blocks,  you  stones,  you  worse  than  senseless  things! 

O  you  hard  hearts,  you  cruel  men  of  Rome, 

Knew  you  not  Pompey  ?     Many  a  time  and  oft 

Have  you  climb'd  up  to  walls  and  battlements, 

To  towers  and  windows,  yea,  to  chimney-tops, 

Your  infants  in  your  arms,  and  there  have  sat 

The  live-long  day,  with  patient  expectation, 

To  see  great  Pompey  pass  the  streets  of  Rome ; 

And  when  you  saw  his  chariot  but  appear, 

Have  you  not  made  an  universal  shout, 

That  Tiber  trembled  underneath  her  banks, 

To  hear  the  replication  of  your  sounds 

Made  in  her  concave  shores? 

And  do  you  now  put  on  your  best  attire? 

And  do  you  now  cull  out  a  holiday? 

And  do  you  now  strew  flowers  in  his  way 

That  comes  in  triumph  over  Pompey's  blood? 

Be  gone ! 

Run  to  your  houses,  fall  upon  your  knees, 

Pray  to  the  gods  to  intermit  the  plague 

That  needs  must  light  on  this  ingratitude. 

Julius  Cezsar,  Act  /,  Sc.  1. 

The  first  three  ideas  comprise  a  climax  of  Signifi- 
cance. In  line  4  we  have  another  climax,  reaching 
its  height  on  the  word  "  worse."  Then  with  "  many 
a  time  and  oft "  begins  another  climax,  which,  with 
occasional  diminutions,  continues  to  "  shores."  In  the 
next  four  lines  we  have  a  climax  which  is  intensified 
by  contrast.  The  word  "  now  "  is  full  of  reproof  and 
condemnation ;  and  by  the  time  the  speaker  utters 
the  words  "  over  Pompey's  blood,"  he  is  so  overcome 
with  the  thought  of  the  enormity  of  the  crime  that, 
with  the  utmost  fervor,  he  urges  the  mob  to  run  to 
their  houses  and  pray  to  the  gods  to  refrain  from 
visiting  upon  their  heads  the  rightful  punishment  for 


CLIMAX  121 

their  crime.  We  must  not  lose  sight  of  the  fact  that, 
throughout  the  speech,  as  the  emotion  of  Marullus 
increases,  we  shall  have  a  climax  of  Intensity. 

In  oratory  the  ordinary  climax  of  Significance  pre- 
sents no  great  difficulty.  As  soon  as  tfie  student 
appreciates  the  growth  in  significance,  he  will  mani- 
fest that  increase  in  greater  intensity  of  expression. 
It  may  be  well  to  repeat  that  the  increase  need  not 
be  in  loudness,  nor  is  it  necessary  that  the  pitch  of 
the  voice  be  raised ;  but  there  will  unquestionably 
be  some  form  of  climax  in  the  expression.  The 
difficulty  begins  when  the  climax  is  made  up  of 
smaller  climaxes,  as  in  the  example  from  Julius 
Ccesar,  or  when  a  climax  is,  so  to  speak,  one  of  con- 
siderable length.  In  the  latter  case,  the  utmost  care 
must  be  used  to  husband  one's  resources,  so  that  when 
the  moment  of  intensest  feeling  is  reached,  there 
shall  be  sufficient  power  to  produce  the  recfuired 
result.  The  student,  then,  is  advised  to  determine 
carefully  that  point  in  his  oration  where  the  strongest 
effect  is  to  be  made,  and  then  to  be  careful  to  sub- 
ordinate all  other  effects  to  that  of  climax. 

CASSIUS'  COMPLAINT  OF  CAESAR. 

Bru.  Another  general  shout ! 
I  do  believe  that  these  applauses  are 
For  some  new  honors  that  are  heaped  on  Caesar. 

Cas.  Why,  man,  he  doth  bestride  the  narrow  world 
Like  a  Colossus  ;  and  we  petty  men 
"Walk  under  his  huge  legs,  and  peep  about 
To  find  ourselves  dishonorable  graves. 
Men  at  some  time  are  masters  of  their  fates : 


122  PRACTICAL  PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

The  fault,  dear  Brutus,  is  not  in  our  stars, 

But  in  ourselves,  that  we  are  underlings. 

Brutus  and  Caesar :  what  should  be  in  that  Caesar? 

Why  should  that  name  be  sounded  more  than  yours? 

Write  them  together,  yours  is  as  fair  a  name ; 

Sound  them,  it  doth  become  the  mouth  as  well ; 

Weigh  them,  it  is  as  heavy ;  conjure  with  'em, 

Brutus  will  start  a  spirit  as  soon  as  Caesar.  [Shout. 

Now,  in  the  names  of  all  the  gods  at  once, 

Upon  what  meat  doth  this  our  Caesar  feed, 

That  he  is  grown  so  great?     Age,  thou  art  sham'd ! 

Borne,  thou  hast  lost  the  breed  of  noble  bloods  ! 

When  went  there  by  an  age,  since  the  great  flood, 

But  it  was  fam'd  with  more  than  with  one  man? 

When  could  they  say,  till  now,  that  talk'd  of  Rome, 

That  her  wide  walls  encompass'd  but  one  man? 

Now  is  it  Rome  indeed,  and  room  enough, 

When  there  is  in  it  but  one  only  man. 

O !  you  and  I  have  heard  our  father  say 

There  was  a  Brutus  once  that  would  have  brook'd 

The  eternal  devil  to  keep  his  state  in  Rome, 

As  easily  as  a  king. 

Julius  Ccesar^  Act  /,  Sc.  2. 

After  this  chapter  has  been  studied  the  student  is 
advised  to  review  the  selections  in  Chapters  I  and  II. 
When  these  were  first  studied  it  was  sufficient  if  the 
student  approximated  the  spirit  of  directness  and 
earnestness,  even  though  there  were  palpable  defi- 
ciencies in  detail.  Let  him  now  strive  to  bring  out 
the  detail,  and  to  combine  directness,  earnestness,  and 
dignity  in  each  selection. 


LIBERTY  AND   UNION 
DANIEL  WEBSTEK 

United  States  Senate,  January  26,  1830 

I  profess,  sir,  in  my  career  hitherto,  to  have  kept 
steadily  in  view  the  prosperity  and  honor  of  the 
whole  country  and  the  preservation  of  our  Federal 
Union.  It  is  to  that  Union  we  owe  our  safety  at 
home  and  our  consideration  and  dignity  abroad. 
It  is*  to  that  Union  that  we  are  chiefly  indebted  for 
whatever  makes  us  most  proud  of  our  country. 
That  Union  we  reached  only  by  the  discipline  of 
our  virtues  in  the  severe  school  of  adversity.  It  had 
its  origin  in  the  necessities  of  disordered  finance, 
prostrate  commerce,  and  ruined  credit.  Under  its 
benign  influences  these  great  interests  immediately 
awoke,  as  from  the  dead,  and  sprang  forth  with  new- 
ness of  life.  Every  year  of  its  duration  has  teemed 
with  fresh  proofs  of  its  utility  and  its  blessings  ; 
and  although  our  territory  has  stretched  out  wider 
and  wider  and  our  population  spread  farther  and 
farther,  they  have  not  outrun  its  protection  or  ite 
benefits.  It  has  been  to  us  all  a  copious  fountain  of 
national,  social,  personal  happiness.  I  have  not 
allowed  myself,  sir,  to  look  beyond  the  Union,  to 
see  what  might  lie  hidden  in  the  dark  recesses  be- 
hind. I  have  not  coolly  weighed  the  chances  of 
preserving  liberty,  when  the  bonds  that  unite  us  to- 
gether shall  be  broken  asunder.  I  have  not  accus- 

123 


124  PRACTICAL  PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

tomed  myself  to  hang-  over  the  precipice   of   dis- 
union, to  see  whether,  with  my  short  sight,  I  can 
fathom  the  depth  of  the  abyss  below ;  nor  could  I 
regard  him  as  a  safe  counsellor  in  the  affairs  of  this 
government  whose  thoughts  should  be  mainly  bent 
on  considering,  not  how  the  Union  should  be  best 
preserved,  but  how  tolerable  might  be  the  condition 
of  the  people  when  it  shall  be  broken  up  and  de- 
stroyed.    While  the  Union  lasts,  we  have  high,  ex- 
citing, gratifying  prospects  spread  out  before  us, 
for  us  and  our  children.     Beyond  that  I  seek  not  to 
penetrate  the  veil.     God  grant  that,  in  my  day  at 
least,  that  curtain  may  not  rise.     God  grant  that  on 
my  vision  never  may  be  opened  what  lies  behind. 
When  my  eyes  shall  be  turned  to  behold,  for  the 
last  time,  the  sun  in  heaven,  may  I  not  see  him 
shining  on  the  broken  and  dishonored  fragments  of 
a  once  glorious  Union;   on  states  dissevered,  dis- 
cordant, belligerent ;  on  a  land  rent  with  civil  feuds, 
or  drenched,  it  may  be,  in  fraternal  blood!    Let 
their  last  feeble  and  lingering  glance,  rather,  behold 
the  gorgeous  ensign  of  the  republic,  now  known 
and  honored  throughout  the  earth,  still  full  high 
advanced,  its  arms  and  trophies  streaming  in  their 
original  lustre,  not  a  stripe  erased  or  polluted,  not 
a  single  star  obscured — bearing  for  its  motto  no 
such  miserable  interrogatory  as,  What  is  all  this 
worth  ?  nor  those  other  words  of  delusion  and  folly, 
Liberty  first,    and    Union    afterward;    but    every- 
where, spread  all  over  in  characters  of  living  light, 
blazing  on  all  its  ample  folds,  as  they  float  over  the 
sea  and  over  the  land,  and  in  every  wind  under  the 
whole  heavens,  that  other  sentiment,  dear  to  every 
true  American  heart — Liberty  and  Union,  now  and 
forever,  one  and  inseparable ! 


part  Sbree 

STYLES  OF  DELIVERY 


CHAPTEE  Vin 

THE  COLLOQUIAL    STYLE 

BROADLY  considered,  there  are  three  styles  of  de- 
livery :  the  colloquial,  the  elevated,  and  the  impas- 
sioned. The  delivery  of  almost  any  oration  will 
require  all  of  these  styles,  but  for  the  purpose  of 
training  it  is  best  to  consider  them  separately. 

The  colloquial  style  is  the  basis  of  effective  public 
speaking.  By  colloquial  is  not  meant  careless  and 
commonplace  speaking,  but  simple,  direct,  and  dig- 
nified conversation.  The  presentation  of  facts 
arguments,  simple  narration  and  description,  not 
accompanied  by  strong  emotion,  will  generally  be  in 
colloquial  style. 

HAMLET'S  ADVICE  TO  THE  PLAYERS. 

(Hamlet,  Act  III,   Sc  2.) 

SPEAK  the  speech,  I  pray  you,  as  I  pronounced  it 
to  you,  trippingly  on  the  tongue ;  but  if  you  mouth 
it,  as  many  of  your  players  do,  I  had  as  lief  the  town 
crier  spoke  my  lines.  And  do  not  saw  the  air  too 
much  with  your  hand,  thus  ;  but  use  all  gently :  for 
in  the  very  torrent,  tempest,  and  (as  I  may  say) 
whirlwind  of  your  passion,  you  must  acquire  and 

127 


128  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

beget  a  temperance  that  may  give  it  a  smoothness. 
Oh,  it  offends  me  to  the  soul  to  hear  a  robustious, 
periwig-pated  fellow  tear  a  passion  to  tatters,  to 
very  rags,  to  split  the  ears  of  the  groundlings,  who, 
for  the  most  part,  are  capable  of  nothing  bat  inex- 
plicable dumb-shows  and  noise.  I  would  have  such 
a  fellow  whipped  for  o'erdoing  Termagant ;  it  out- 
herods  Herod  ;  pray  you  avoid  it. 

Be  not  too  tame  neither,  but  let  your  own  discre- 
tion be  your  tutor  :  suit  the  action  to  the  word,  the 
word  to  the  action,  with  this  special  observance, 
that  you  o'erstep  not  the  modesty  of  Nature ;  for 
anything  so  overdone  is  from  the  purpose  of  play- 
ing, whose  end,  both  at  the  first,  and  now,  was,  and 
is,  to  hold,  as  'twere,  the  mirror  up  to  Nature,  to 
show  Virtue  her  own  feature,  Scorn  her  own  image, 
and  the  very  age  and  body  of  the  time  his  form  and 
pressure.  Now,  this  overdone,  or  come  tardy  off, 
though  it  make  the  unskilful  laugh,  cannot  but  make 
the  judicious  grieve  ;  the  censure  of  the  which  one 
must,  in  your  allowance,  o'erweigh  a  whole  theatre 
of  others.  Oh,  there  be  players  that  I  have  seen 
play — and  heard  others  praise,  and  that  highly — not 
to  speak  it  profanely,  that,  neither  having  the  accent 
of  Christians,  nor  the  gait  of  Christian,  pagan,  or 
man,  have  so  strutted  and  bellowed  that  I  have 
thought  some  of  Nature's  journeymen  had  made 
men,  and  not  made  them  well,  they  imitated  human- 
ity so  abominably. 


ELOQUENCE  OF  O'CONNELL 
WENDELL  PHILLIPS 

Boston,  August  6,  1875. 

BROADLY  considered,  O'Connell's  eloquence  has 
never  been  equalled  in  modern  times,  certainly  not 
in  English  speech.  Do  you  think  I  am  partial  ?  I 
will  vouch  John  Kandolph  of  Roanoke,  the  Virginia 
slaveholder,  who  hated  an  Irishman  almost  as  much 
as  he  hated  a  Yankee,  himself  an  orator  of  no  mean 
level.  Hearing  O'Connell,  he  exclaimed,  "This  is 
the  man,  these  are  the  lips,  the  most  eloquent  that 
speak  the  English  tongue  in  my  day !  "  I  think  he 
was  right.  I  remember  the  solemnity  of  Webster, 
the  grace  of  Everett,  the  rhetoric  of  Choate  :  I  know 
the  eloquence  that  lay  hid  in  the  iron  logic  of  Cal- 
houn ;  I  have  melted  beneath  the  magnetism  of 
Sergeant  S.  Prentiss  of  Mississippi,  who  wielded  a 
power  few  men  ever  had  :  it  has  been  my  fortune  to 
sit  at  the  feet  of  the  great  speakers  of  the  English 
tongue  on  the  other  side  of  the  ocean  ;  but,  I  think 
all  of  them  together  never  surpassed,  and  no  one  of 
them  ever  equalled  O'Connell. 

Nature  intended  him  for  our  Demosthenes.  Never, 
since  the  great  Greek,  has  she  sent  forth  any  one  so 
lavishly  gifted  for  his  work  as  a  tribune  of  the  people. 
In  the  first  place,  he  had  a  magnificent  presence,  im- 
pressive in  bearing,  massive,  like  that  of  Jupiter. 

*  Copyright  by  Lee  &  Shepard,  Boston. 
129 


130  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

Webster  himself  hardly  outdid  him  in  the  majesty 
of  his  proportions.  To  be  sure,  he  had  not  Web- 
ster's craggy  face,  and  precipice  of  brow,  nor  his 
eyes  glowing  like  anthracite  coal.  Nor  had  he  the 
lion  roar  of  Mirabeau.  But  his  presence  filled  the 
eye.  A  small  O'Connell  would  hardly  have  been  an 
O'Connell  at  all.  These  physical  advantages  are 
half  the  battle.  I  remember  Russell  Lowell  telling 
us  that  Mr.  Webster  came  home  from  Washington 
at  the  time  the  Whig  party  thought  of  dissolution, 
and  went  down  to  Faneuil  Hall  to  protest.  Draw- 
ing himself  up  to  his  loftiest  proportion,  his  brow 
clothed  with  thunder,  before  the  listening  thousands, 
he  said,  "  Well,  gentlemen,  I  am  a  Whig,  a  Massa- 
chusetts Whig,  a  Faneuil  Hall  Whig,  a  Revolution- 
ary Whig,  a  Constitutional  Whig  ;  if  you  break  the 
Whig  party,  sir,  where  am  I  to  go  ?  "  And  says  Lowell, 
"  We  held  our  breath,  thinking  where  he  could  go. 
If  he  had  been  five  feet  three,  we  should  have  said, 
*  Who  cares  where  you  go  ?  "  So  it  was  with  O'Con- 
nell ;  there  was  something  majestic  in  his  presence 
before  he  spoke  ;  and  he  added  to  it,  what  Webster 
had  not,  but  Clay  might  have  lent,  grace.  Lithe  as 
a  boy  at  seventy,  every  attitude  a  picture,  every 
gesture  a  grace,  he  was  still  all  nature,  nothing  but 
nature  seemed  to  speak  all  over  him. 

He  had  a  voice  that  covered  the  gamut.  I  heard 
him  once  say,  "  I  send  my  voice  across  the  Atlantic, 
careering  like  the  thunder-storm  against  the  breeze, 
to  tell  the  slave-holder  of  the  Carolinas  that  God's 
thunderbolts  are  hot,  and  to  remind  the  bondman 
that  the  dawn  of  his  redemption  is  already  break- 
ing." You  seemed  to  hear  the  tones  coming  back  to 
London  from  the  Rocky  Mountains.  Then,  with  the 
slightest  possible  Irish  brogue,  he  would  tell  a 


WENDELL  PHILLIPS  131 

story,  while  all  Exeter  Hall  shook  with  laughter. 
The  next  moment,  tears  in  his  voice  like  a  Scotch 
song-,  five  thousand  men  wept.  His  marvellous 
voice,  its  almost  incredible  power  and  sweetness, 

"  Even  to  the  verge  of  that  vast  audience  sent, 
It  played  with  each  wild  passion  as  it  went ; 
Now  stirred  the  uproar,  now  the  murmur  stilled, 
And  sobs  or  laughter  answered  as  it  willed." 


THE  HOMES  OF  THE  PEOPLE 
HENEY  W.  GEADY 

Elberton,  Ga.,  June,  1889. 

I  WENT  to  Washington  the  other  day,  and  I  stood 
on  the  Capitol  Hill ;  my  heart  beat  quick  as  I  looked 
at  the  towering  marble  of  my  country's  Capitol 
and  the  mist  gathered  in  my  eyes  as  I  thought  of 
its  tremendous  significance,  and  the  armies  and  the 
treasury,  and  the  judges  and  the  President,  and  the 
Congress  and  the  courts,  and  all  that  was  gathered 
there.  And  I  felt  that  the  sun  in  all  its  course  could 
not  look  down  on  a  better  sight  than  that  majestic 
home  of  a  republic  that  had  taught  the  world  its 
best  lessons  of  liberty.  And  I  felt  that  if  honor  and 
wisdom  and  justice  abided  therein,  the  world  would 
at  last  owe  that  great  house  in  which  the  ark  of  the 
covenant  of  my  country  is  lodged,  its  final  uplifting 
and  its  regeneration. 

Two  days  afterward,  I  went  to  visit  a  friend  in  the 
country,  a  modest  man,  with  a  quiet  country  home. 
It  was  just  a  simple,  unpretentious  house,  set  about 
with  big  trees,  encircled  in  meadow  and  field  rich 
with  the  promise  of  harvest.  The  fragrance  of  the 
pink  and  hollyhock  in  the  front  yard  was  mingled 
with  the  aroma  of  the  orchard  and  of  the  gardens, 
and  resonant  with  the  cluck  of  poultry  and  the  hum 
of  bees. 

132 


HENRY    W.    GRADY  133 

Inside  was  quiet,  cleanliness,  thrift,  and  comfort. 
There  was  the  old  clock  that  had  welcomed,  in  steady 
measure,  every  newcomer  to  the  family,  that  had 
ticked  the  solemn  requiem  of  the  dead,  and  had 
kept  company  with  the  watcher  at  the  bedside. 
There  were  the  big1,  restful  beds  and  the  old,  open 
fireplace,  and  the  old  family  Bible,  thumbed  with 
the  fingers  of  hands  long  since  still,  and  wet  with 
the  tears  of  eyes  long"  since  closed,  holding1  the  sim- 
ple annals  of  the  family  and  the  heart  and  the 
conscience  of  the  home. 

Outside,  there  stood  my  friend,  the  master,  a  sim- 
ple, upright  man,  with  no  mortgage  on  his  roof,  no 
lien  on  his  growing-  crops,  master  of  his  land  and 
master  of  himself.  There  was  his  old  father,  an 
aged,  trembling  man,  but  happy  in  the  heart  and 
home  of  his  son.  And  as  they  started  to  their  home, 
the  hands  of  the  old  man  went  down  on  the  young 
man's  shoulder,  laying1  there  the  unspeakable  bless- 
ing of  the  honored  and  grateful  father  and  enno- 
bling it  with  the  knighthood  of  the  fifth  command- 
ment. 

And  as  they  reached  the  door  the  old  mother  came 
with  the  sunset  falling  fair  on  her  face,  and  lighting 
up  her  deep,  patient  eyes,  while  her  lips,  trembling 
with  the  rich  music  of  her  heart,  bade  her  husband 
and  son  welcome  to  their  home.  Beyond  was  the 
housewife,  busy  with  her  household  cares,  clean  of 
heart  and  conscience,  the  buckler  and  helpmeet  of 
her  husband.  Down  the  lane  came  the  children, 
trooping  home  after  the  cows,  seeking  as  truant 
birds  do  the  quiet  of  their  home  nest. 

And  I  saw  the  night  come  down  on  that  house, 
falling  gently  as  the  wings  of  the  unseen  dove.  And 
the  old  man — while  a  startled  bird  called  from  the 


134  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

forest,  and  the  trees  were  shrill  with  the  cricket's 
cry,  and  the  stars  were  swarming  in  the  sky — got 
the  family  around  him,  and,  taking  the  old  Bible 
from  the  table,  called  them  to  their  knees,  the  lit- 
tle baby  hiding  in  the  folds  of  its  mother's  dress, 
while  he  closed  the  record  of  that  simple  day  by 
calling  down  God's  benediction  on  that  family  and 
on  that  home.  And  while  I  gazed,  the  vision  of 
that  marble  Capitol  faded.  Forgotten  were  its 
treasures  and  its  majesty,  and  I  said,  "  Oh,  surely 
here  in  the  homes  of  the  people  are  lodged  at  last 
the  strength  and  the  responsibility  of  this  govern- 
ment, the  hope  and  the  promise  of  this  republic." 


PAUL  BEVEBE'S  BIDE* 
GEOEGE  WILLIAM  CUETIS 

Concord,  Mass.,  April  19,  1875 

THE  first  imposing-  armed  movement  against  the 
colonies,  on  the  19th  of  April,  1775,  did  not  take  the 
people  by  surprise.  For  ten  years  they  had  seen 
the  possibility,  for  five  years  the  probability,  and 
for  at  least  a  year  the  certainty  of  the  contest.  They 
quietly  organized,  watched,  and  waited.  As  the 
spring  advanced,  it  was  plain  that  some  movement 
would  be  made.  On  Tuesday,  the  18th,  Gage,  the 
British  commander,  who  had  decided  to  send  a  force 
to  Concord  to  destroy  the  stores,  picketed  the  roads 
from  Boston  into  Middlesex  to  prevent  any  report 
of  the  intended  march  from  spreading  into  the 
country.  But  the  very  air  was  electric.  In  the  ten- 
sion of  the  popular  mind  every  sight  and  sound  was 
significant. 

It  was  part  of  Gage's  plan  to  seize  Hancock  and 
Adams,  who  were  at  Lexington  ;  and  on  the  evening 
of  the  18th,  the  Committee  of  Safety  at  Cambridge 
sent  them  word  to  beware,  for  suspicious  officers 
were  abroad.  In  the  afternoon  one  of  the  govern- 
or's grooms  strolled  into  a  stable  where  John  Bal- 
lard  was  cleaning  a  horse.  John  Ballard  was  a  Son 
of  Liberty,  and  when  the  groom  idly  hinted  at  what 
might  take  place  next  morning,  John's  heart  leaped 

*  From  Orations  and  Addresses  by  George  William  Curtis.    Copyright,  1894, 
by  Harper  and  Brothers. 

135 


136  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

and  his  hand  shook ;  and,  asking1  the  groom  to  fin- 
ish cleaning*  the  horse,  he  ran  to  a  friend,  who  car- 
ried the  news  straight  to  Paul  Kevere,  who  told  him 
he  had  already  heard  it  from  two  other  persons. 

That  evening-,  at  ten  o'clock,  eight  hundred  British 
troops,  under  Lieutenant-Colonel  Smith,  took  boat 
at  the  foot  of  the  Common  and  crossed  to  the  Cam- 
bridge shore.  Gage  thought  his  secret  had  been 
kept,  but  Lord  Percy,  who  had  heard  the  people 
say  on  the  Common  that  the  troops  would  miss  their 
aim,  undeceived  him.  Gage  instantly  ordered  that 
no  one  should  leave  the  town.  But  as  the  troops 
crossed  the  river,  Ebenezer  Dorr,  with  a  message  to 
Hancock  and  Adams,  was  riding  over  the  Neck  to 
Roxbury,  and  Paul  Revere  was  rowing  over  the 
river  to  Chariest  own,  having  agreed  with  his  friend, 
Robert  Newman,  to  show  lanterns  from  the  belfry 
of  the  Old  North  Church — "  One  if  by  land,  and  two 
if  by  sea  " — as  a  signal  of  the  march  of  the  British. 

Already  the  moon  was  rising,  and  while  the  troops 
were  stealthily  landing  at  Lechmere  Point,  their  se- 
cret was  flashing  out  into  the  April  night;  and  Paul 
Revere,  springing  into  the  saddle,  upon  the  Charles- 
town  shore,  spurred  away  into  Middlesex.  "  How 
far  that  little  candle  throws  its  beams  ! "  The  mod- 
est spire  yet  stands,  revered  relic  of  the  old  town  of 
Boston,  of  those  brave  men  and  of  their  deeds. 
Startling  the  land  that  night  with  the  warning  of 
danger,  let  it  remind  the  land  forever  of  the  patriot- 
ism with  which  that  danger  was  averted,  and  for  our 
children,  as  for  our  fathers,  still  stand  secure,  the 
Pharos  of  American  liberty. 

It  was  a  brilliant  night.  The  winter  had  been  un- 
usually mild,  and  the  spring  very  forward.  The  hills 
were  already  green.  The  early  grain  waved  in  the 


GEORGE   WILLIAM    CURTIS  137 

fields,  and  the  air  was  sweet  with  the  blossoming- 
orchards.  Already  the  robins  whistled,  the  blue- 
birds sang,  and  the  benediction  of  peace  rested  upon 
the  landscape.  Under  the  cloudless  moon  the  sol- 
diers silently  marched,  and  Paul  Revere  swiftly  rode, 
galloping  through  Medford  and  West  Cambridge, 
rousing  every  house  as  he  went  spurring  for  Lex- 
ington and  Hancock  and  Adams,  and  evading  the 
British  patrols  who  had  been  sent  out  to  stop  the 
news. 

Stop  the  news !  Already  the  village  churches 
were  beginning  to  ring  the  alarm,  as  the  pulpits 
beneath  them  had  been  ringing  for  many  a  year. 
In  the  awakening  houses  lights  flashed  from  win- 
dow to  window.  Drums  beat  faintly  far  away  and 
on  every  side.  Signal-guns  flashed  and  echoed. 
The  watch-dogs  barked,  the  cocks  crew.  Stop  the 
news  ! — Stop  the  sunrise  !  The  murmuring  night 
trembled  with  the  summons  so  earnestly  expected, 
so  dreaded,  so  desired.  And  as  long  ago  the  voice 
rang  out  at  midnight  along  the  Syrian  shore  wailing 
that  great  Pan  was  dead,  but  in  the  same  moment 
the  choiring  angels  whispered,  — "  Glory  to  God  in 
the  highest,  for  Christ  is  born!"  so,  if  the  stern 
alarm  of  that  April  night  seemed  to  many  a  wistful 
and  loyal  heart  to  portend  the  passing  glory  of 
the  British  dominion  and  the  tragical  chance  of 
war,  it  whispered  to  them  with  prophetic  inspira- 
tion,— "  Good  will  to  men,  America  is  born ! " 


CHAPTEE  IX 

THE  ELEVATED   STYLE 

ALL  public  speaking  is  accompanied  by  a  certain 
amount  of  emotion  which  we  may  call  animation  or 
enthusiasm.  But  when  the  speaker  leaves  the  mere 
presentation  of  fact  and  argument,  and  appeals  to 
the  feelings  of  his  audience,  the  colloquial  style, 
in  which  he  has  been  speaking,  naturally  gives  way 
to  a  more  impressive  manner  which  we  may  call  the 
elevated  style. 

In  practising  the  following  examples,  the  student 
should  remember  what  was  stated  in  the  chapter  on 
Dignity :  that  however  intense  the  feeling,  there 
should  always  be  emotional  poise  and  self  command. 


138 


A  REMINISCENCE  OF  LEXINGTON 
THEODORE  PAKKER 

ONE  raw  morning-  in  spring- — it  will  be  eighty 
years  the  19th  day  of  this  month — Hancock  and 
Adams,  the  Moses  and  Aaron  of  that  Great  Deliver- 
ance, were  both  at  Lexington  ;  they  also  had  "  ob- 
structed an  officer "  with  brave  words.  British 
soldiers,  a  thousand  strong,  came  to  seize  them  and 
carry  them  over  sea  for  trial,  and  so  nip  the  bud  of 
Freedom  auspiciously  opening  in  that  early  spring. 
The  town  militia  came  together  before  daylight, 
"for  training."  A  great,  tall  man,  with  a  large 
head  and  a  high,  wide  brow,  their  captain, — one  who 
had  "  seen  service," — marshalled  them  into  line, 
numbering  but  seventy,  and  bade  "  every  man  load 
his  piece  with  powder  and  ball.  I  will  order  the 
first  man  shot  that  runs  away,"  said  he,  when  some 
faltered.  "  Don't  fire  unless  fired  upon,  but  if  they 
want  to  have  a  war,  let  it  begin  here." 

Gentlemen,  you  know  what  followed  ;  those  farm- 
ers and  mechanics  "  fired  the  shot  heard  round  the 
world."  A  little  monument  covers  the  bones  of 
such  as  before  had  pledged  their  fortune  and  their 
sacred  honor  to  the  Freedom  of  America,  and  that 
day  gave  it  also  their  lives.  I  was  born  in  that 
little  town,  and  bred  up  amid  the  memories  of  that 
day.  When  a  boy,  my  mother  lifted  me  up,  one 
Sunday,  in  her  religious,  patriotic  arms,  and  held 

139 


140  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC    SPEAKING 

me  while  I  read  the  first  monumental  line  I  ever 
saw — "  Sacred  to  Liberty  and  the  Eights  of  Man- 
kind." 

Since  then  I  have  studied  the  memorial  marbles 
of  Greece  and  Rome,  in  many  an  ancient  town  ;  nay, 
on  Egyptian  obelisks,  have  read  what  was  written 
before  the  Eternal  roused  up  Moses  to  lead  Israel 
out  of  Egypt,  but  no  chiselled  stone  has  ever  stirred 
me  to  such  emotion  as  these  rustic  names  of  men 
who  fell  "In  the  Sacred  Cause  of  God  and  their 
Country." 

Gentlemen,  the  Spirit  of  Liberty,  the  Love  of 
Justice,  was  early  fanned  into  a  flame  in  my  boyish 
heart.  That  monument  covers  the  bones  of  my  own 
kinsfolk ;  it  was  their  blood  which  reddened  the 
long,  green  grass  at  Lexington.  It  was  my  own 
name  which  stands  chiseled  on  that  stone ;  the  tall 
Captain  who  marshalled  his  fellow  farmers  and 
mechanics  into  stern  array,  and  spoke  such  brave 
and  dangerous  words  as  opened  the  war  of  American 
Independence, — the  last  to  leave  the  field, — was  my 
father's  father.  I  learned  to  read  out  of  his  Bible, 
and  with  a  musket  he  that  day  captured  from  the 
foe,  I  learned  also  another  religious  lesson,  that 
"  Rebellion  to  Tyrants  is  Obedience  to  God."  I 
keep  them  both  "  Sacred  to  Liberty  and  the  Rights 
of  Mankind,"  to  use  them  both  "In  the  Sacred 
Cause  of  God  and  my  Country." 


DEATH  OF  GARFIELD 
JAMES  G.  ELAINE 

Halls  of  Congress,  February  26,  1882 

SURELY,  if  happiness  can  ever  come  from  the 
honors  or  triumphs  of  this  world,  on  that  quiet  July 
morning  James  A.  Garfield  may  well  have  been  a 
happy  man.  No  foreboding  of  evil  haunted  him ; 
no  slightest  premonition  of  danger  clouded  his  sky. 
His  terrible  fate  was  upon  him  in  an  instant.  One 
moment  he  stood  erect,  strong,  confident  in  the 
years  stretching  peacefully  before  him  ;  the  next  he 
lay  wounded,  bleeding,  helpless,  doomed  to  weary 
weeks  of  torture,  to  silence  and  the  grave. 

Great  in  life,  he  was  surpassingly  great  in  death. 
For  no  cause,  in  the  very  frenzy  of  wantonness  and 
wickedness,  by  the  red  hand  of  murder,  he  was  thrust 
from  the  full  tide  of  this  world's  interests,  from  its 
hopes,  its  aspirations,  its  victories,  into  the  visible 
presence  of  death,  and  he  did  not  quail.  Not  alone 
for  the  one  short  moment  in  which,  stunned  and 
dazed,  he  could  give  up  life,  hardly  aware  of  its 
relinquishment,  but  through  days  of  deadly  languor, 
through  weeks  of  agony  that  was  not  less  agony 
because  silently  borne,  with  clear  sight  and  calm 
courage  he  looked  into  his  open  grave.  What  blight 
and  ruin  met  his  anguished  eyes  whose  lips  may  tell ! 
What  brilliant,  broken  plans !  What  baffled  high 
ambitions !  What  sundering  of  strong,  warm  man- 

141 


142  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

hood's  friendships !  What  bitter  rending-  of  sweet 
household  ties !  Behind  him,  a  proud,  expectant 
nation ;  a  great  host  of  sustaining  friends  ;  a  cher- 
ished and  happy  mother,  wearing  the  full  rich  hon- 
ors of  her  early  toil  and  tears  ;  the  wife  of  his  youth, 
whose  whole  life  lay  in  his ;  the  little  boys,  not  yet 
emerged  from  childhood's  days  of  frolic  ;  the  fair 
young  daughter  :  the  sturdy  sons  just  springing  into 
closest  companionship,  claiming  every  day  and  every 
day  rewarding  a  father's  love  and  care  ;  and  in  his 
heart  the  eager  rejoicing  power  to  meet  all  demands. 
Before  him,  desolation  and  darkness,  and  his  soul 
was  not  shaken.  His  countrymen  were  thrilled  with 
instant,  profound,  and  universal  sympathy.  Though 
masterful  in  his  mortal  weakness,  enshrined  in  the 
prayers  of  a  world,  all  the  love  and  all  the  sympathy 
could  not  share  with  him  in  his  suffering.  He  trod 
the  winepress  alone.  With  unfaltering  front  he  faced 
death.  With  unfailing  tenderness  he  took  leave  of 
life.  Above  the  demoniac  hiss  of  the  assassin's  bul- 
let he  heard  the  voice  of  God.  With  simple  resig- 
nation he  bowed  to  the  Divine  decree. 

As  the  end  drew  near,  his  early  craving  for  the  sea 
returned.  The  stately  mansion  of  power  had  been 
to  him  the  wearisome  hospital  of  pain,  and  he  begged 
to  be  taken  from  its  prison  walls,  from  its  oppressive, 
stifling  air,  from  its  homelessness  and  its  hopeless- 
ness. Gently,  silently,  the  love  of  a  great  people 
bore  the  pale  sufferer  to  the  longed-for  healing  of  the 
sea,  to  live,  or  die,  as  God  should  will,  within  sight 
of  its  heaving  billows,  within  sound  of  its  manifold 
voices  .  .  .  Let  us  believe  that  in  the  silence 
of  the  receding  world  he  heard  the  great  waves 
breaking  on  a  further  shore,  and  felt  already  upon 
his  wasted  brow  the  breath  of  the  eternal  morning. 


PLYMOUTH  ROCK 
DANIEL  WEBSTEE 

Plymouth  Mass.,  December  22,  1820 

WE  have  come  to  Plymouth  Kock,  to  record  here 
our  homage  for  our  Pilgrim  Fathers,  our  sympathy 
in  their  sufferings,  our  gratitude  for  their  labors, 
our  admiration  of  their  virtues,  our  veneration  for 
their  piety,  and  our  attachment  to  those  principles 
of  civil  and  religious  liberty  for  which  they  encount- 
ered the  dangers  of  the  ocean,  the  storms  of  heaven, 
the  violence  of  savages,  disease,  exile,  and  famine,  to 
enjoy  and  to  establish.  And  we  would  leave  here, 
also,  for  the  generations  which  are  rising  up  rapidly 
to  fill  our  places,  some  proof  that  we  have  endeav- 
ored to  transmit  the  great  inheritance  unimpaired ; 
that  in  our  estimate  of  public  principles  and  private 
virtue,  in  our  veneration  of  religion  and  piety,  in 
our  devotion  to  civil  and  religious  liberty,  in  our  re- 
gard for  whatever  advances  human  knowledge,  or 
improves  human  happiness,  we  are  not  altogether 
unworthy  of  our  origin. 

When  the  traveller  pauses  on  the  plain  of  Mar- 
athon, what  are  the  emotions  which  most  strongly 
agitate  his  breast  ?  What  is  the  glorious  recollec- 
tion which  thrills  through  his  frame,  and  suffuses 
his  eyes?  Not,  I  imagine,  that  Grecian  skill  and 
Grecian  valor  were  here  most  signally  displayed,  but 

143 


144  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC    SPEAKING 

that  Greece  herself  was  saved.  It  is  because  to  this 
spot,  and  to  the  event  which  has  rendered  it  immor- 
tal, he  refers  all  the  succeeding  glories  of  the 
republic.  It  is  because,  if  that  day  had  gone  other- 
wise, Greece  had  perished.  It  is  because  he  per- 
ceives that  her  philosophers  and  orators,  her  poets 
and  painters,  her  sculptors  and  architects,  her  gov- 
ernments and  free  institutions,  point  backward  to 
Marathon,  and  that  their  future  existence  seems  to 
have  been  suspended  on  the  contingency,  whether 
the  Persian  or  the  Grecian  banner  should  wave  vic- 
torious in  the  beams  of  that  day's  setting  sun.  "  If 
we  conquer,"  said  the  Athenian  commander,  on  the 
approach  of  that  decisive  day, — "  if  we  conquer,  we 
shall  make  Athens  the  greatest  city  of  Greece."  A 
prophecy  how  well  fulfilled ! 

"  If  God  prosper  us,"  might  have  been  the  more 
appropriate  language  of  our  fathers  when  they  land- 
ed upon  this  rock, — "if  God  prosper  us,  we  shall 
here  begin  a  work  which  shall  last  for  ages  ;  we  shall 
plant  here  a  new  society  in  the  principles  of  the 
fullest  liberty  and  the  purest  religion  ;  we  shall 
subdue  this  wilderness  which  is  before  us ;  we  shall 
fill  the  region  of  the  great  continent,  which  stretches 
almost  from  pole  to  pole,  with  civilization  and  Chris- 
tianity ;  the  temples  of  the  true  God  shall  rise  where 
now  ascends  the  smoke  of  idolatrous  sacrifice  ;  fields 
and  gardens,  the  flowers  of  summer,  and  the  waving 
and  golden  harvest  of  autumn,  shall  spread  over  a 
thousand  hills,  and  stretch  along  a  thousand  valleys, 
never  yet,  since  the  creation,  reclaimed  to  the  use  of 
civilized  man.  We  shall  whiten  this  coast  with  the 
canvas  of  a  prosperous  commerce;  we  shall  stud 
the  long  and  winding  shore  with  a  hundred  cities. 
That  which  we  sow  in  weakness  shall  be  raised  in 


DANIEL   WEBSTER  145 

strength.  From  our  sincere  but  houseless  worship 
there  shall  spring  splendid  temples  to  record  God's 
goodness ;  from  the  simplicity  of  our  social  union 
there  shall  arise  wise  and  politic  constitutions  of 
government,  full  of  the  liberty  which  we  ourselves 
bring  and  breathe  ;  from  our  zeal  for  learning,  insti- 
tutions shall  spring  which  shall  scatter  the  light  of 
knowledge  throughout  the  land,  and,  in  time,  paying 
back  where  they  have  borrowed,  shall  contribute 
their  part  to  the  great  aggregate  of  human  knowl- 
edge ;  and  our  descendants,  through  all  generations, 
shall  look  back  to  this  spot  and  to  this  hour  with 
unabated  affection  and  regard." 


CHAPTEE  X 

THE  IMPASSIONED  STYLE 

THE  impassioned  style  is  that  form  of  utterance 
which  is  the  manifestation  of  intensest  feeling.  It 
differs  from  the  elevated  only  in  degree. 

The  purpose  of  the  exercises  in  this  chapter  is  to 
train  the  student  in  the  controlled  expression  of  the 
most  intense  emotion.  In  oratory  we  find  this  im- 
passioned utterance,  generally,  when  the  speaker  has 
the  design  to  move  his  audience  to  definite  choice  or 
action. 

In  concluding  the  study  of  styles,  it  is  well  to  re- 
mind the  student  that  each  of  the  forms  of  utterance 
here  discussed  is  appropriate,  and  even  necessary, 
under  certain  circumstances.  Many  speakers  in 
their  desire  to  avoid  affectation  deliver  the  prof  ound- 
est  truths  in  a  colloquial  manner  that  reduces  them 
to  mere  commonplaces.  Again,  others  express  sim- 
ple statements  in  a  manner  so  elevated  as  to  be  out 
of  all  harmony  with  the  ideas  presented*  However, 
the  student's  greatest  danger  lies  in  the  use  of  the 
impassioned  style.  In  dramatic  work  it  is  often  nec- 
essary to  present  a  character  as  entirely  lacking  in 
self-control,  but  such  a  condition  is  never  present  in 
the  realm  of  oratory.  Let  the  pupil  abandon  himselt 

146 


THE  IMPASSIONED   STYLE  147 

to  the  delivery  of  the  impassioned  passages  with  all 
the  fervor  of  which  he  is  capable,  but  never,  under 
any  circumstances,  allow  the  emotion  to  pass  beyond 
his  control. 

HOTSPUR  TO  WORCESTER 

(1st  Henry  IV.,  Act  L,  Sc.  3.) 

Worcester.  Those  same  noble  Scots 

That  are  your  prisoners,— 

Hotspur.  I'll  keep  them  all ; 

By  heaven,  he  shall  not  have  a  Scot  of  them  ; 
No,  if  a  Scot  would  save  his  soul,  he  shall  not : 
I'll  keep  them,  by  this  hand. 

Wor.  You  start  away, 

And  lend  no  ear  unto  my  purposes. — 
Those  prisoners  you  shall  keep. 

Hot.  Nay,  I  will ;  that's  flat  :— 

He  said  he  would  not  ransom  Mortimer ; 
Forbade  my  tongue  to  speak  of  Mortimer ; 
But  I  will  find  him  when  he  lies  asleep, 
And  in  his  ear  I'll  holla — Mortimer! 
Nay, 

I'll  have  a  starling  shall  be  taught  to  speak 
Nothing  but  Mortimer,  and  give  it  him, 
To  keep  his  anger  still  in  motion. 

SHTLOCK  FOR  THE  JEWS 

(Merchant  of  Venice,  Act  III.,  Sc.  1.) 

Salarin.  But  tell  us,  do  you  hear  whether  Antonio 
have  had  any  loss  at  sea  or  no  ? 

Shylock.  There  I  have  another  bad  match  :  a  bank- 
rupt, a  prodigal,  who  dare  scarce  show  his  head  on  the 


148  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

Rialto  ; — a  beggar,  that  was  used  to  come  so  smug 
upon  the  mart ; — let  him  look  to  his  bond !  he  was 
wont  to  call  me  usurer  ; — let  him  look  to  his  bond ! 
he  was  wont  to  lend  money  for  a  Christian  courtesy; 
— let  him  look  to  his  bond  ! 

Solar.  Why,  I  am  sure  if  he  forfeit  thou  wilt  not 
take  his  flesh.  What's  that  good  for  ? 

Shy.  To  bait  fish  withal :  if  it  will  feed  nothing 
else  it  will  feed  my  revenge.  He  hath  disgraced  me 
and  hindered  me  half  a  million ;  laughed  at  my 
losses,  mocked  at  my  gains,  scorned  my  nation, 
thwarted  my  bargains,  cooled  my  friends,  heated 
mine  enemies !  and  what's  his  reason  ?  I  am  a  Jew ! 
Hath  not  a  Jew  eyes  ?  hath  not  a  Jew  hands,  organs, 
dimensions,  senses,  affections,  passions  ?  fed  with 
the  same  food,  hurt  with  the  same  weapons,  subject 
to  the  same  diseases,  healed  by  the  same  means, 
warmed  and  cooled  by  the  same  winter  and  summer 
as  a  Christian  is  ?  If  you  prick  us,  do  we  not  bleed  ? 
if  you  tickle  us,  do  we  not  laugh  ?  if  you  poison  us, 
do  we  not  die  ?  and  if  you  wrong  us,  shall  we  not  re- 
venge ?  If  we  are  like  you  in  the  rest,  we  will  re- 
semble you  in  that.  If  a  Jew  wrong  a  Christian, 
what  is  his  humility  ?  Revenge.  If  a  Christian  wrong 
a  Jew,  what  should  his  sufferance  be  by  Christian 
example  ?  Why,  revenge.  The  villainy  you  teach  me 
I  will  execute  ;  and  it  shall  go  hard  but  I  will  better 
the  instruction. 


AGAINST   CURTAILING    THE  EIGHT  OF 
SUFFRAGE 

VICTOE  HUGO 

Paris,  May  20,  1850 

GENTLEMEN — I  address  the  men  who  govern  us 
and  say  to  them :  Go  on,  cut  off  three  millions  of 
voters ;  cut  off  eight  out  of  nine,  and  the  result 
will  be  the  same  to  you,  if  it  be  not  more  decisive. 
What  you  do  not  cut  off  is  your  own  faults ;  the 
absurdities  of  your  policy  of  compression,  your 
fatal  incapacity,  your  ignorance  of  the  present 
epoch,  the  antipathy  you  feel  for  it,  and  that  it 
feels  for  you  ;  what  you  will  not  cut  off  is  the 
times  which  are  advancing,  the  hour  now  striking, 
the  ascending  movement  of  ideas,  the  gulf  opening 
broader  and  deeper  between  yourself  and  the  age, 
between  the  young  generation  and  you,  between  the 
spirit  of  liberty  and  you,  between  the  spirit  of  phi- 
losophy and  you. 

What  you  will  not  cut  off  is  this  immense  fact, 
that  the  nation  goes  to  one  side,  while  you  go  to  the 
other ;  that  what  for  you  is  the  sunrise  is  for  it  the 
sun's  setting ;  that  you  turn  your  backs  to  the 
future,  while  this  great  people  of  France,  its  front 
all  radiant  with  light  from  the  rising  dawn  of  a  new 
humanity,  turns  its  back  to  the  past. 

Gentlemen,  this  law  is  invalid ;  it  is  null ;  it  is 
149 


150  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

dead  even  before  it  exists.  And  do  you  know  what 
has  killed  it  ?  It  is  that,  when  it  meanly  approaches 
to  steal  the  vote  from  the  pocket  of  the  poor  and 
feeble,  it  meets  the  keen,  terrible  eye  of  the  national 
probity,  a  devouring  light,  in  which  the  work  of 
darkness  disappears. 

Yes,  men  who  govern  us,  at  the  bottom  of  every 
citizen's  conscience,  the  most  obscure  as  well  as  the 
greatest,  at  the  very  depths  of  the  soul  (I  use  your 
own  expression)  of  the  last  beggar,  the  last  vaga- 
bond, there  is  a  sentiment,  sublime,  sacred,  insur- 
mountable, indestructible,  eternal — the  sentiment  of 
right !  This  sentiment,  which  is  the  very  essence  of 
the  human  conscience,  which  the  Scriptures  call  the 
corner-stone  of  justice,  is  the  rock  on  which  in- 
iquities, hypocrisies,  bad  laws,  evil  designs,  bad 
governments,  fall,  ajad  are  shipwrecked.  This  is  the 
hidden,  irresistible  obstacle,  veiled  in  the  recesses 
of  every  mind,  but  ever  present,  ever  active,  on 
which  you  will  always  exhaust  yourselves;  and 
which,  whatever  you  do,  you  will  never  destroy.  I 
warn  you,  your  labor  is  lost ;  you  will  not  extinguish 
it,  you  will  not  confuse  it.  Far  easier  to  drag  the 
rock  from  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  than  the  sentiment 
of  right  from  the  heart  of  the  people  1 


ON  THE  IRISH  DISTURBANCE  BILL 
DANIEL  O'CONNELL 

I  DO  not  rise  to  fawn  or  cringe  to  this  House ; — I 
do  not  rise  to  supplicate  you  to  be  merciful  toward 
the  nation  to  which  I  belong,  toward  a  nation 
which,  though  subject  to  England,  yet  is  distinct 
from  it.  It  is  a  distinct  nation  :  it  has  been  treated 
as  such  by  this  country,  as  may  be  proved  by  his- 
tory, and  by  seven  hundred  years  of  tyranny.  I 
call  upon  this  House,  as  you  value  the  liberty  of 
England,  not  to  allow  the  present  nefarious  bill  to 
pass.  In  it  are  involved  the  liberties  of  England, 
the  liberty  of  the  Press,  and  of  every  other  institu- 
tion dear  to  Englishmen.  Against  the  bill  I  protest, 
in  the  name  of  the  Irish  people,  and  in  the  face  of 
Heaven.  I  treat  with  scorn  the  puny  and  pitiful 
assertion  that  grievances  are  not  to  be  complained 
of — that  our  redress  is  not  to  be  agitated ;  for,  in 
such  cases,  remonstrance  cannot  be  too  strong,  agi- 
tation cannot  be  too  violent,  to  show  to  the  world 
with  what  injustice  our  fair  claims  are  met,  and  un- 
der what  tyranny  the  people  suffer. 

The  clause  which  does  away  with  the  trial  by  jury 
—what,  in  the  name  of  Heaven,  is  it,  if  it  is  not  the 
establishment  of  a  revolutionary  tribunal  ?  It  drives 
the  judge  from  his  bench ;  it  does  away  with  that 
which  is  more  sacred  than  the  Throne  itself — that 
for  which  your  king  reigns,  your  lords  deliberate, 

151 


152  PRACTICAL  PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

your  commons  assemble.  If  ever  I  doubted,  before, 
of  the  success  of  our  agitation  for  repeal,  this  bill— 
this  infamous  bill— the  way  in  which  it  has  been  re- 
ceived by  the  House ;  the  manner  in  which  its  op- 
ponents have  been  treated ;  the  personalities  to 
which  they  have  been  subjected;  the  yells  with 
which  one  of  them  has  this  night  been  greeted — all 
these  things  dissipate  my  doubts,  and  tell  me  of  its 
complete  and  early  triumph.  Do  you  think  those 
yells  will  be  forgotten  ?  Do  you  suppose  their  echo 
will  not  reach  the  plains  of  my  injured  and  insulted 
country ;  that  they  will  not  be  whispered  in  her 
green  valleys,  and  heard  from  her  lofty  hills  ?  Oh, 
they  will  be  heard  there  ! — yes,  and  they  will  not  be 
forgotten.  The  youth  of  Ireland  will  bound  with 
indignation — they  will  say,  "  We  are  eight  millions, 
and  you  treat  us  thus,  as  though  we  were  no  more 
to  your  country  than  the  isle  of  Guernsey  or  of 
Jersey ! " 

I  have  done  my  duty.  I  stand  acquitted  to  my 
conscience  and  my  country.  I  have  opposed  this 
measure  throughout,  and  I  now  protest  against  it, 
as  harsh,  oppressive,  uncalled  for,  unjust :— as  estab- 
lishing an  infamous  precedent,  by  retaliating  crime 
against  crime;— as  tyrannous— cruelly  and  vindic- 
tively tyrannous  1 


Ipart  four 

THE  FORMS  OF  DISCOURSE 


CHAPTEB  XI 

THE  FORMS  OF  DISCOURSE 

RHETORICIANS  recognize  five  forms  of  discourse : 
Description,  Narration,  Exposition,  Argumentation, 
and  Persuasion.  In  this  chapter  will  be  found,  in 
the  order  in  which  they  are  named  above,  an  exam- 
ple of  each  of  the  first  four  forms  and  several  of  the 
last.  This  material  is  inserted  to  afford  opportunity 
for  practice  in  the  styles  discussed  in  the  preceding 
chapter  and  may  do  much  to  lay  the  foundations  for 
original  composition. 


155 


THE  BURNING  OF  MOSCOW 
J.  T.  HEADLEY 

(Napoleon  and  his  Marshals,   Vol.  I.) 

AT  length  Moscow,  with  its  domes,  and  towers, 
and  palaces,  appeared  in  sight ;  and  Napoleon,  who 
had  joined  the  advanced  guard,  gazed  long  and 
thoughtfully  on  that  goal  of  his  wishes.  Murat 
went  forward  and  entered  the  gates  with  his  splendid 
cavalry ;  but,  as  he  passed  through  the  streets,  he 
was  struck  by  the  solitude  that  surrounded  him. 
Nothing  was  heard  but  the  heavy  tramp  of  his 
squadrons  as  they  passed  along,  for  a  deserted  and 
abandoned  city  was  the  meagre  prize  for  which 
such  unparalleled  efforts  had  been  made.  As  night 
drew  its  curtain  over  the  splendid  capital,  Napo- 
leon entered  the  gates,  and  immediately  appointed 
Mortier  governor.  In  his  directions,  he  com- 
manded him  to  abstain  from  all  pillage.  "  For 
this,"  said  he,  "  you  shall  be  answerable  with  your 
life.  Defend  Moscow  against  all,  whether  friend  or 
foe." 

The  bright  moon  rose  over  the  mighty  city,  tip- 
ping with  silver  the  domes  of  more  than  two  hun- 
dred churches,  and  pouring  a  flood  of  light  over  a 
thousand  palaces  and  the  dwellings  of  three  hun- 
dred thousand  inhabitants.  The  weary  army  sank 
to  rest,  but  there  was  no  sleep  for  Mortier's  eyes. 
Not  the  gorgeous  and  variegated  palaces  and  their 
rich  ornaments,  nor  the  parks  and  gardens  and 

156 


J.    T.    HEADLEY  157 

oriental  magnificence  that  everywhere  surrounded 
him,  kept  him  wakeful,  but  the  ominous  foreboding 
that  some  dire  calamity  was  hanging  over  the  silent 
capital. 

When  he  entered  it,  scarcely  a  living  soul  met  his 
gaze  as  he  looked  down  the  long  streets  ;  and  when 
he  broke  open  the  buildings,  he  found  parlors,  and 
bedrooms,  and  chambers,  all  furnished,  and  in  order, 
but  no  occupants.  This  sudden  abandonment  of 
their  homes  betokened  some  secret  purpose  yet  to 
be  fulfilled.  The  midnight  moon  was  settling  over 
the  city,  when  the  cry  of  "  Fire ! "  reached  the  ears 
of  Mortier ;  and  the  first  light  over  Napoleon's  fal- 
tering empire  was  kindled,  and  that  most  wondrous 
scene  of  modern  times  commenced,  the  Burning  of 
Moscow. 

Mortier,  as  governor  of  the  city,  immediately 
issued  his  orders,  and  was  putting  forth  every  exer- 
tion, when,  at  daylight,  Napoleon  hastened  to  him. 
Affecting  to  disbelieve  the  reports  that  the  inhabi- 
tants were  firing  their  own  city,  he  put  more  rigid 
commands  on  Mortier  to  keep  the  soldiers  from  the 
work  of  destruction.  The  marshal  simply  pointed 
to  some  iron  covered  houses  that  had  not  yet  been 
opened,  from  every  crevice  of  which  smoke  was 
issuing  like  steam  'from  the  sides  of  a  pent-up  vol- 
cano. Sad  and  thoughtful,  Napoleon  turned  toward 
the  Kremlin,  the  ancient  palace  of  the  Czars,  whose 
huge  structure  rose  high  above  the  surrounding 
edifices. 

In  the  morning,  Mortier,  by  great  exertions,  was 
enabled  to  subdue  the  fire.  But  the  next  night, 
September  15th,  1812,  at  midnight,  the  sentinels  on 
watch  upon  the  lofty  Kremlin  saw  below  them  the 
flames  bursting  through  the  houses  and  palaces, 


158  PRACTICAL  PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

and  the  cry  of  "Fire!  fire!"  passed  through  the 
city.  The  dread  scene  was  now  fairly  opened. 
Fiery  balloons  were  seen  dropping  through  the  air 
and  lighting  on  the  houses ;  dull  explosions  were 
heard  on  every  side  from  the  shut-up  dwellings,  and 
the  next  moment  light  burst  forth,  and  the  flames 
were  raging  through  the  apartments. 

All  was  uproar  and  confusion.  The  serene  air 
and  moonlight  of  the  night  before  had  given  way  to 
driving  clouds  and  a  wild  tempest,  that  swept  like 
the  roar  of  the  sea  over  the  city.  Flames  arose  on 
every  side,  blazing  and  crackling  in  the  storm ; 
while  clouds  of  smoke  and  sparks  in  an  incessant 
shower  went  driving  toward  the  Kremlin.  The 
clouds  themselves  seemed  turned  into  fire,  rolling 
wrath  over  devoted  Moscow.  Mortier,  crushed  with 
the  responsibility  thrown  upon  his  shoulders,  moved 
with  his  Young  Guard  amid  this  desolation,  blow- 
ing up  the  houses  and  facing  the  tempest  and  the 
flames,  struggling  nobly  to  arrest  the  conflagration. 
He  hastened  from  place  to  place  amid  the  ruins,  his 
face  blackened  with  smoke,  and  his  hair  and  eye- 
brows singed  with  the  fierce  heat.  At  length  the 
day  dawned — a  day  of  tempest  and  of  flame — and 
Mortier,  who  had  strained  every  nerve  for  thirty-six 
hours,  entered  a  palace  and  dropped  down  from 
fatigue.  The  manly  form  and  stalwart  arm  that  had 
so  often  carried  death  into  the  ranks  of  the  enemy, 
at  length  gave  way,  and  the  gloomy  marshal  lay 
and  panted  in  utter  exhaustion.  But  the  night  of 
tempest  had  been  succeeded  by  a  day  of  tempest ; 
and  when  night  again  enveloped  the  city,  it  was  one 
broad  flame,  waving  to  and  fro  in  the  blast. 

The  wind  had  increased  to  a  perfect  hurricane, 
and  shifted  from  quarter  to  quarter,  as  if  on  purpose 


J.  T.    HEADLEY  159 

to  swell  the  sea  of  fire  and  extinguish  the  last  hope. 
The  fire  was  approaching  the  Kremlin,  and  already 
the  roar  of  the  flames  and  crash  of  falling  houses, 
and  the  crackling  of  burning  embers,  were  borne  to 
the  ears  of  the  startled  Emperor.  He  arose  and 
walked  to  and  fro,  stopping  convulsively  and  gazing 
on  the  terrific  scene.  Murat,  Eugene,  and  Berthier 
rushed  into  his  presence,  and  on  their  knees  be- 
sought him  to  flee ;  but  he  still  clung  to  that  haughty 
palace  as  if  it  were  his  empire. 

But  at  length  the  shout,  "The  Kremlin  is  on 
fire !  "  was  heard  above  the  roar  of  the  conflagra- 
tion, and  Napoleon  reluctantly  consented  to  leave. 
He  descended  into  the  streets  with  his  staff,  and 
looked  about  for  a  way  of  egress,  but  the  flames 
blocked  every  passage.  At  length  they  discovered 
a  postern  gate,  leading  to  the  Moskwa,  and  entered 
it ;  but  they  had  entered  still  further  into  the  dan- 
ger. As  Napoleon  cast  his  eye  round  the  open 
space,  girdled  and  arched  with  fire,  smoke,  and 
cinders,  he  saw  one  single  street  yet  open,  but  all 
on  fire.  Into  this  he  rushed,  and  amid  the  crash  of 
falling  houses,  and  raging  of  the  flames,  over  burn- 
ing ruins,  through  clouds  of  rolling  smoke,  and  be- 
tween walls  of  fire,  he  pressed  on  ;  and,  at  length, 
half-suffocated,  emerged  in  safety  from  the  blazing 
city,  and  took  up  his  quarters  in  the  imperial  palace 
of  Petrousky,  nearly  three  miles  distant. 

Mortier,  relieved  from  his  anxiety  for  the  Em- 
peror, redoubled  his  efforts  to  arrest  the  conflagra- 
tion. His  men  cheerfully  rushed  into  every  danger. 
Breathing  nothing  but  smoke  and  ashes,  canopied 
by  flame,  and  smoke,  and  cinders,  surrounded  by 
walls  of  fire,  that  rocked  to  and  fro,  and  fell  with  a 
crash  amid  the  blazing  ruins,  carrying  down  with 


160  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC    SPEAKING 

them  red-hot  roofs  of  iron ;  he  struggled  against  an 
enemy  that  no  boldness  could  awe,  or  courage  over- 
come. Those  brave  troops  had  heard  the  tramp  of 
thousands  of  cavalry  sweeping  to  battle,  without 
fear ;  but  now  they  stood  in  still  terror  before  the 
march  of  the  conflagration,  under  whose  burning 
footsteps  was  heard  the  incessant  crash  of  falling 
houses,  and  palaces,  and  churches.  The  continuous 
roar  of  the  raging  hurricane,  mingled  with  that  of 
the  flames,  was  more  terrible  than  the  thunder  of 
artillery ;  and  before  this  new  foe,  in  the  midst  of 
the  battle  of  the  elements,  the  awe-struck  army 
stood  powerless  and  affrighted. 

When  night  again  descended  on  the  city,  it  pre- 
sented a  spectacle,  the  like  of  which  was  never  seen 
before,  and  which  baffles  all  description.  The  streets 
were  streets  of  fire,  the  heavens  a  canopy  of  fire,  and 
the  entire  body  of  the  city  a  mass  of  fire,  fed  by  a 
hurricane  that  sped  the  blazing  fragments  in  a  con- 
stant stream  through  the  air.  Incessant  explosions, 
from  the  blowing  up  of  stores  of  oil,  and  tar,  and 
spirits,  shook  the  very  foundations  of  the  city,  and 
sent  vast  volumes  of  smoke  rolling  furiously  toward 
the  sky.  Huge  sheets  of  canvas  on  fire  came  float- 
ing like  messengers  of  death  through  the  flames; 
the  towers  and  domes  of  the  churches  and  palaces 
glowing  with  a  red-hot  heat  over  the  wild  sea  be- 
low, then  tottering  a  moment  on  their  bases,  were 
hurled  by  the  tempest  into  the  common  ruin. 

Thousands  of  wretches,  before  unseen,  were  driven 
by  the  heat  from  the  cellars  and  hovels,  and  streamed 
in  an  incessant  throng  through  the  streets.  Children 
were  seen  carrying  their  parents ;  the  strong,  the 
weak ;  while  thousands  were  staggering  under  the 
loads  of  plunder  they  had  snatched  from  the  flames. 


J.    T.    HEADLEY  161 

This,  too,  would  frequently  take  fire  in  the  falling 
shower,  and  the  miserable  creatures  would  be  com- 
pelled to  drop  it,  and  flee  for  their  lives.  O,  it  was 
a  scene  of  woe  and  fear  inconceivable  and  indes- 
cribable!  A  mighty  and  closely -packed  city  of 
houses,  and  churches,  and  palaces,  wrapped  from 
limit  to  limit  in  flames,  which  are  fed  by  a  whirling 
hurricane,  is  a  sight  the  world  will  seldom  see. 

But  this  was  within  the  city.  To  Napoleon,  with- 
out, the  scene  was  still  more  sublime  and  terrific. 
When  the  flames  had  overcome  all  obstacles,  and 
had  wrapped  everything  in  their  red  mantle,  that 
great  city  looked  like  a  sea  of  rolling  fire,  swept  by 
a  tempest  that  drove  it  into  billows.  Huge  domes 
and  towers,  throwing  off  sparks  like  blazing  fire- 
brands, now  disappeared  in  their  maddening  flow, 
as  they  rushed  and  broke  high  over  their  tops, 
scattering  their  spray  of  fire  against  the  clouds. 
The  heavens  themselves  seemed  to  have  caught  the 
conflagration,  and  the  angry  masses  that  swept  it 
rolled  over  a  bosom  of  fire.  Columns  of  flame  would 
rise  and  sink  along  the  surface  of  this  sea,  and  huge 
volumes  of  black  smoke  suddenly  shoot  into  the  air, 
as  if  volcanoes  were  working  below.  The  black 
form  of  the  Kremlin  alone  towered  above  the  chaos, 
now  wrapped  in  flame  and  smoke,  again  emerging 
into  view,  standing  amid  this  scene  of  desolation 
and  terror,  like  Virtue  in  the  midst  of  a  burning 
world,  enveloped  but  unscathed  by  the  devouring 
elements. 

Napoleon  stood  and  gazed  on  the  scene  in  silent 
awe.  Though  nearly  three  miles  distant,  the  win- 
dows and  walls  of  his  apartment  were  so  hot  that  he 
could  scarcely  bear  his  hand  against  them.  Said  he, 
years  afterward :  "  It  was  a  spectacle  of  a  sea  and 


162  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKINC4 

billows  of  fire,  a  sky  and  clouds  of  flame,  mountains 
of  red  rolling  flames,  like  immense  waves  of  the  sea, 
alternately  bursting  forth  and  elevating  themselves 
to  skies  of  flame  above.  O,  it  was  the  most  grand, 
the  most  sublime,  and  the  most  terrific  sight  the 
world  ever  beheld." 


THE  BATTLE  OF   WATERLOO 
VICTOE  HUGO 

Les  MiseraUes 

HAD  it  not  rained  on  the  night  of  the  17th  of  June, 
1815,  the  future  of  Europe  would  have  been  changed. 
A  few  drops  of  water  more  or  less  prostrated  Napo- 
leon. That  Waterloo  should  be  the  end  of  Auster- 
litz,  Providence  needed  only  a  little  rain,  and  an 
unseasonable  cloud  crossing  the  sky  sufficed  for  the 
overthrow  of  a  world. 

The  battle  of  Waterloo — and  this  gave  Blucher 
time  to  come  up — could  not  be  commenced  before 
half -past  eleven.  Why  ?  Because  the  ground  was 
soft.  It  was  necessary  to  wait  for  it  to  acquire  some 
little  firmness  so  that  the  artillery  could  manoeuvre. 

Had  the  ground  been  dry,  and  the  artillery  able 
to  move,  the  action  would  have  been  commenced  at 
six  o'clock  in  the  morning.  The  battle  would  have 
been  won  and  finished  at  two  o'clock,  three  hours 
before  the  Prussians  turned  the  scale  of  fortune. 

How  much  fault  is  there  on  the  part  of  Napoleon 
in  the  loss  of  this  battle  ?  Is  the  shipwreck'  to  be 
imputed  to  the  pilot  ?  His  plan  of  battle  was,  all 
confess,  a  masterpiece.  To  march  straight  to  the 
centre  of  the  allied  line,  pierce  the  enemy,  cut  them 
in  two,  push  the  British  half  upon  Hal  and  the  Prus- 
sian half  upon  Tongres,  make  of  Wellington  and 

163 


164  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

Bliicher  two  fragments,  carry  Mont  Saint  Jean,  seize 
Brussels,  throw  the  German  into  the  Rhine,  and  the 
Englishman  into  the  sea.  All  this,  for  Napoleon,  was 
in  this  battle.  What  would  follow,  anybody  can  see. 

Those  who  would  get  a  clear  idea  of  the  battle  of 
Waterloo  have  only  to  lay  down  upon  the  ground 
in  their  mind  a  capital  A.  The  left  stroke  of  the  A 
is  the  road  from  Nivelles,  the  right  stroke  is  the 
road  from  Genappe,  the  cross  of  the  A  is  the  sunken 
road  from  Ohan  to  Brame-1'Alleud.  The  top  of  the 
A  is  Mont  Saint  Jean,  Wellington  is  there  ;  the  left- 
hand  lower  point  is  Hougomont,  Eeille  is  there  with 
Jerome  Bonaparte ;  the  right-hand  lower  point  is 
La  Belle  Alliance,  Napoleon  is  there.  A  little  be- 
low the  point  where  the  cross  of  the  A  meets  and 
cuts  the  right  stroke,  is  La  Haie  Sainte.  At  the 
middle  of  this  cross  is  the  precise  point  where  the 
final  battle-word  was  spoken.  There  the  lion  is 
placed,  the  involuntary  symbol  of  the  supreme  hero- 
ism of  the  Imperial  Guard.  The  triangle  contained 
at  the  top  of  the  A,  between  the  two  strokes  and  the 
cross,  is  the  plateau  of  Mont  Saint  Jean.  The  strug- 
gle for  this  plateau  was  the  whole  of  the  battle. 
The  wings  of  the  two  armies  extended  to  the  right 
and  left  of  the  two  roads  from  Genappe  and  from  Ni- 
velles ;  D'Erlon  being  opposite  Picton,  Keille  oppo- 
site Hill.  Behind  the  point  of  the  A,  behind  the 
plateau  of  Mont  Saint  Jean,  is  the  forest  of  Soignes. 
As  to  the  plain  itself,  we  must  imagine  a  vast  undu- 
lating country ;  each  wave  commanding  the  next, 
and  these  undulations  rising  toward  Mont  Saint  Jean 
are  there  bounded  by  the  forest. 

Both  generals  had  carefully  studied  the  plain  of 
Mont  Saint  Jean,  now  called  the  plain  of  Waterloo. 
Already  in  the  preceding  year,  Wellington,  with  the 


VICTOR  HUGO  165 

sagacity  of  prescience,  had  examined  it  as  a  possible 
site  for  a  great  battle.  On  this  ground  and  for  this 
contest  Wellington  had  the  favorable  side,  Napoleon 
the  unfavorable.  The  English  army  was  above,  the 
French  army  below. 

Everybody  knows  the  first  phase  of  this  battle ; 
the  difficult  opening,  uncertain,  hesitating,  threat- 
ening for  both  armies,  but  for  the  English  still  more 
than  for  the  French. 

It  had  rained  all  night :  the  ground  was  softened 
by  the  shower  ;  water  lay  here  and  there  in  the  hol- 
lows of  the  plain  as  in  basins ;  at  some  points  the 
wheels  sank  in  to  the  axles ;  the  horses'  girths 
dripped  with  liquid  mud ;  had  not  the  wheat  and 
rye  spread  down  by  that  multitude  of  advancing 
carts  filled  the  ruts  and  made  a  bed  under  the 
wheels,  all  movements,  particularly  in  the  valleys  on 
the  side  of  Papelotte,  would  have  been  impossible. 

The  affair  opened  late  ;  Napoleon,  as  we  have  ex- 
plained, had  a  habit  of  holding  all  his  artillery  in 
hand  like  a  pistol,  aiming  now  at  one  point,  anon  at 
another  point  of  the  battle,  and  he  desired  to  wait 
until  the  field  batteries  could  wheel  and  gallop 
freely  ;  for  this  the  sun  must  come  out  and  dry  the 
ground.  But  the  sun  did  not  come  out.  He  had  not 
now  the  field  of  Austerlitz.  When  the  first  gun  was 
fired,  the  English  General  Colville  looked  at  his  watch 
and  noted  that  it  was  thirty-five  minutes  past  eleven. 

The  battle  was  commenced  with  fury,  more  fury 
perhaps  than  the  emperor  would  have  wished,  by 
the  left  wing  of  the  French  at  Hougomont.  At  the 
same  time  Napoleon  attacked  the  centre  by  hurling 
the  brigade  of  Quiot  upon  La  Haie  Sainte,  and  Ney 
pushed  the  right  wing  of  the  French  against  the  left 
wing  of  the  English  which  rested  upon  Papelotte. 


166  PKACTICAL   PUBLIC    SPEAKING 

There  is  in  this  day  from  noon  to  four  o'clock  an 
obscure  interval ;  the  middle  of  this  battle  is  almost 
indistinct,  and  partakes  of  the  thickness  of  the  con- 
flict. However,  in  the  afternoon,  at  a  certain  mo- 
ment, the  battle  assumed  precision. 

Toward  four  o'clock  the  situation  of  the  English 
army  was  serious.  The  Prince  of  Orange  com- 
manded the  centre,  Hill  the  right  wing,  Picton  the 
left  wing.  The  Prince  of  Orange,  desperate  and  in- 
trepid, cried  to  the  Hollando-Belgians  :  Nassau  ! 
Brunswick  !  never  retreat  !  Hill,  exhausted,  had  fal- 
len back  upon  Wellington,  Picton  was  dead.  At 
the  very  moment  that  the  English  had  taken  from 
the  French  the  colors  of  the  105th  of  the  line,  the 
French  had  killed  General  Picton  by  a  ball  through 
the  head.  For  Wellington  the  battle  had  two  points 
of  support,  Hougomont  and  La  Haie  Sainte ;  Hou- 
gomont  still  held  out,  but  was  burning ;  La  Haie 
Sainte  had  been  taken.  Of  the  German  battalion 
which  defended  it,  forty -two  men  only  survived  ;  all 
the  officers,  except  five,  were  dead  or  prisoners. 
Three  thousand  combatants  were  massacred  in  that 
grange.  A  sergeant  of  the  English  Guards,  the 
best  boxer  in  England,  reputed  invulnerable  by  his 
comrades,  had  been  killed  by  a  little  French  drum- 
mer. Baring  had  been  dislodged,  Alten  put  to  the 
sword.  Several  colors  had  been  lost,  one  belonging 
to  Alten's  division,  and  one  to  the  Luneburg  battal- 
ion, borne  by  a  prince  of  the  family  of  Deux-Ponts. 
The  Scotch  Grays  were  no  more  ;  Ponsonby's  heavy 
dragoons  had  been  cut  to  pieces.  That  valiant  cav- 
alry had  given  way  before  the  lancers  of  Bro  and 
the  cuirassiers  of  Travers ;  of  their  twelve  hundred 
horses  there  remained  six  hundred;  of  three  lieu- 
tenant-colonels, two  lay  on  the  ground,  Hamilton 


VICTOR  HUGO  167 

wounded,  Mather  killed.  Ponsonby  had  fallen, 
pierced  with  seven  thrusts  of  a  lance.  Gordon  was 
dead,  Marsh  was  dead.  Two  divisions,  the  fifth  and 
the  sixth,  were  destroyed. 

Hougomont  yielding,  La  Haie  Sainte  taken,  there 
was  but  one  knot  left,  the  centre.  That  still  held. 
Wellington  reinforced  it.  He  called  thither  Hill, 
who  was  at  Merbe  Braine,  and  Chasse,  who  was  at 
Braine  1'Alleud. 

The  centre  of  the  English  army,  slightly  concave, 
very  dense  and  very  compact,  held  a  strong  position. 
It  occupied  the  plateau  of  Mont  Saint  Jean,  with 
the  village  behind  it  and  in  front  the  declivity, 
which  at  that  time  was  steep. 

Wellington,  anxious,  but  impassible,  was  on  horse- 
back, and  remained  there  the  whole  day  in  the  same 
attitude,  a  little  in  front  of  the  old  mill  of  Mont 
Saint  Jean,  which  is  still  standing,  under  an  elm 
which  an  Englishman,  an  enthusiastic  vandal,  has 
since  bought  for  two  hundred  francs,  cut  down  and 
carried  away.  Wellington  was  frigidly  heroic.  The 
balls  rained  down.  His  aide-de-camp,  Gordon,  had 
just  fallen  at  his  side.  Lord  Hill,  showing  him  a 
bursting  shell,  said :  My  Lord,  what  are  your  in- 
structions, and  what  orders  do  you  leave  us,  if  you 
allow  yourself  to  be  killed  ? —  To  follow  my  example, 
answered  Wellington.  To  Clinton  he  said  laconic- 
ally: Hold  this  spot  to  the  last  man.  The  day  was 
clearly  going  badly.  Wellington  cried  to  his  old 
companions  of  Talavera,  Vittoria,  and  Salamanca: 
Boys  !  We  must  not  be  beat ;  what  would  they  say  of 
us  in  England  ! 

About  four  o'clock  the  English  line  staggered 
backward.  All  at  once  only  the  artillery  and  the 
sharpshooters  were  seen  on  the  crest  of  the  plateau, 


168  PRACTICAL  PUBLIC  SPEAKING 

the  rest  disappeared ;  the  regiments,  driven  by  the 
shells  and  bullets  of  the  French,  fell  back  into  the 
valley  now  crossed  by  the  cow-path  of  the  farm  of 
Mont  Saint  Jean  ;  a  retrograde  movement  took  place, 
the  battle  front  of  the  English  was  slipping  away, 
Wellington  gave  ground.  Beginning  retreat  !  cried 
Napoleon. 

At  the  moment  when  Wellington  drew  back,  Na- 
poleon started  up.  He  saw  the  plateau  of  Mont 
Saint  Jean  suddenly  laid  bare,  and  the  front  of  the 
English  army  disappear.  It  rallied,  but  kept  con- 
cealed. The  emperor  half  rose  in  his  stirrups.  The 
flash  of  victory  passed  into  his  eyes.  Wellington 
hurled  back  on  the  forest  of  Soignes  and  destroyed ; 
that  was  the  final  overthrow  of  England  by  France ; 
it  was  Cressy,  Poitiers,  Malplaquet,  and  Eamillies 
avenged.  The  man  of  Marengo  was  wiping  out 
Agincourt. 

The  emperor  then  contemplating  this  terrible 
turn  of  fortune,  swept  his  glass  for  the  last  time 
over  every  point  of  the  battle-field.  His  guard 
standing  behind  with  grounded  arms,  looked  up  to 
him  with  a  sort  of  religion.  He  was  reflecting ;  he 
was  examining  the  slopes,  noting  the  ascents, 
scrutinizing  the  tuft  of  trees,  the  square  rye  field, 
the  footpath ;  he  seemed  to  count  every  bush.  He 
looked  for  some  time  at  the  English  barricades  on 
the  two  roads,  two  large  abattis  of  trees,  that  on  the 
Genappe  road  above  La  Haie  Sainte,  armed  with 
two  cannon,  which  alone,  of  all  the  English  artillery, 
bore  upon  the  bottom  of  the  field  of  battle,  and  that 
of  the  Nivelles  road  where  glistened  the  Dutch 
bayonets  of  Chasse's  brigade.  He  noticed  near 
that  barricade  the  old  chapel  of  Saint  Nicholas, 
painted  white,  which  is  at  the  corner  of  the  cross- 


VICTOR  HUGO  169 

road  toward  Braine  1'Alleud.  He  bent  over  and 
spoke  in  an  undertone  to  the  guide  Lacoste.  The 
guide  made  a  negative  sign  of  the  head,  probably 
treacherous. 

The  emperor  rose  up  and  reflected.  Wellington 
had  fallen  back.  It  remained  only  to  complete  this 
repulse  by  a  crushing  charge.  Napoleon,  turning 
abruptly,  sent  off  a  courier  at  full  speed  to  Paris  to 
announce  that  the  battle  was  won. 

Napoleon  was  one  of  those  geniuses  who  rule 
the  thunder.  He  had  found  his  thunderbolt.  He 
ordered  Milhaud's  cuirassiers  to  carry  the  plateau  of 
Mont  Saint  Jean.  They  were  three  thousand  five 
hundred.  They  formed  a  line  of  half  a  mile.  They 
were  gigantic  men  on  colossal  horses.  They  were 
twenty  -  six  squadrons.  Aide  -de  -  camp  Bernard 
brought  them  the  emperor's  order.  Ney  drew  his 
sword  and  placed  himself  at  their  head.  The  enor- 
mous squadrons  began  to  move.  Then  was  seen  a 
fearful  sight.  All  this  cavalry,  with  sabres  drawn, 
banners  waving,  and  trumpets  sounding,  formed  in 
column  by  division,  descending  with  an  even  move- 
ment and  as  one  man — with  the  precision  of  a  bronze 
battering-ram  opening  a  breach. 

An  odd  numerical  coincidence  ;  twenty-six  bat- 
talions were  to  receive  these  twenty-six  squadrons. 
Behind  the  crest  of  the  plateau,  under  cover  of  the 
masked  battery,  the  English  infantry,  formed  in 
thirteen  squares,  two  battalions  to  the  square,  and, 
upon  two  lines — seven  on  the  first,  and  six  on  the 
second — with  musket  to  the  shoulder,  and  eye  upon 
their  sights,  waiting  calm,  silent,  and  immovable. 
They  could  not  see  the  cuirassiers,  and  the  cuiras- 
siers could  not  see  them.  They  listened  to  the  ris- 
ing of  this  tide  of  men.  They  heard  the  increasing 


170  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

sound  of  three  thousand  horses,  the  alternate  and 
measured  striking  of  their  hoofs  at  full  trot,  the  rat- 
tling of  the  cuirasses,  the  clicking  of  the  sabres, 
and  a  sort  of  fierce  roar  of  the  coming  host.  There 
was  a  moment  of  fearful  silence,  then,  suddenly, 
a  long  line  of  raised  arms  brandishing  sabres  ap- 
peared above  the  crest,  with  casques,  trumpets, 
and  standards,  and  three  thousand  faces  with  gray 
mustaches,  crying,  Vive  PEmpereur!  All  this  cav- 
alry debouched  on  the  plateau,  and  it  was  like  the 
beginning  of  an  earthquake. 

All  at  once,  tragic  to  relate,  at  the  left  of  the  Eng- 
lish, and  on  our  right,  the  head  of  the  column  of 
cuirassiers  reared  with  a  frightful  clamor.  Arrived 
at  the  culminating  point  of  the  crest,  unmanageable, 
full  of  fury,  and  bent  upon  the  extermination  of  the 
squares  and  cannons,  the  cuirassiers  saw  between 
themselves  and  the  English  a  ditch,  a  grave.  It 
was  the  sunken  road  of  Ohain. 

It  was  a  frightful  moment.  There  was  the  ravine, 
unlocked  for,  yawning  at  the  very  feet  of  the  horses> 
two  fathoms  deep  between  its  double  slope.  The 
second  rank  pushed  in  the  first,  the  third  pushed  in 
in  the  second ;  the  horses  reared,  threw  themselves 
over,  fell  upon  their  backs,  and  struggled  with  their 
feet  in  the  air,  piling  up  and  overturning  their 
riders ;  no  power  to  retreat ;  the  whole  column  was 
nothing  but  a  projectile.  The  force  acquired  to 
crush  the  English  crushed  the  French.  The  inexo- 
rable ravine  could  not  yield  until  it  was  filled ;  riders 
and  horses  rolled  in  together  pell-mell,  grinding 
each  other,  making  common  flesh  in  this  dreadful 
gulf,  and  when  this  grave  was  full  of  living  men,  the 
rest  marched  over  them  and  passed  on.  Almost  a 
third  of  the  Dubois  brigade  sank  into  this  abyss. 


VICTOR  HUGO  171 

Here  the  loss  of  the  battle  began.  At  the  same  time 
with  the  ravine,  the  artillery  was  unmasked.  Sixty 
cannons  and  the  thirteen  squares  thundered  and 
flashed  into  the  cuirassiers.  The  brave  General 
Delord  gave  the  military  salute  to  the  English  bat- 
tery. All  the  English  flying  artillery  took  position 
in  the  squares  at  a  gallop.  The  cuirassiers  had 
not  even  time  to  breathe.  The  disaster  of  the  sunken 
road  had  decimated,  but  not  discouraged  them. 
They  were  men  who,  diminished  in  number,  grew 
greater  in  heart.  Wathier's  column  alone  had  suf- 
fered from  the  disaster ;  Delord's,  which  Ney  had 
sent  obliquely  to  the  left,  as  if  he  had  a  presenti- 
ment of  the  snare,  arrived  entire.  The  cuirassiers 
hurled  themselves  upon  the  English  squares.  At 
full  gallop,  with  free  rein,  their  sabres  in  their  teeth, 
and  their  pistols  in  their  hands,  the  attack  began. 
There  are  moments  in  battle  when  the  soul  hardens 
a  man  even  to  changing  the  soldier  into  a  statue, 
and  all  this  flesh  becomes  granite.  The  English 
battalions,  desperately  assailed,  did  not  yield  an 
inch.  Then  it  was  frightful. 

All  sides  of  the  English  squares  were  attacked  at 
once.  A  whirlwind  of  frenzy  enveloped  them. 
This  frigid  infantry  remained  impassable.  The  first 
rank,  with  knee  on  the  ground,  received  the  cuiras- 
siers on  their  bayonets,  the  second  shot  them  down  ; 
behind  the  second  rank,  the  cannoneers  loaded  their 
guns,  the  front  of  the  square  opened,  made  way  for 
an  eruption  of  grape,  and  closed  again.  The  cuiras- 
siers answered  by  rushing  upon  them  with  crushing 
force.  Their  great  horses  reared,  trampled  upon 
the  ranks,  leaped  over  the  bayonets,  and  fell,  gigan- 
tic, in  the  midst  of  these  four  living  walls.  The 
balls  made  gaps  in  the  ranks  of  the  cuirassiers,  the 


172  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

cuirassiers  made  breaches  in  the  squares.  Files  of 
men  disappeared,  ground  down  beneath  the  horses' 
feet. 

The  cuirassiers,  relatively  few  in  number,  lessened 
by  the  catastrophe  of  the  ravine,  had  to  contend 
with  almost  the  whole  of  the  English  army,  but  they 
multiplied  themselves,  each  man  became  equal  to  ten. 
Nevertheless  some  Hanoverian  battalions  fell  back. 
Wellington  saw  it  and  remembered  his  cavalry. 
Had  Napoleon,  at  that  very  moment,  remembered 
his  infantry,  he  would  have  won  the  battle.  This 
forgetfulness  was  his  great  fatal  blunder. 

Suddenly  the  assailing  cuirassiers  perceived  that 
they  were  assailed.  The  English  cavalry  was  upon 
their  back.  Before  them  the  squares,  behind  them 
Somerset ;  Somerset,  with  the  fourteen  hundred 
dragoon  guards.  Somerset  had  on  his  right  Dorn- 
berg  with  his  German  light-horse,  and  on  his  left 
Trip,  with  the  Belgian  carbineers.  The  cuirassiers, 
attacked  front,  flank,  and  rear,  by  infantry  and 
cavalry,  were  compelled  to  face  in  all  directions. 
What  was  that  to  them  ?  They  were  a  whirlwind. 
Their  valor  became  unspeakable.  The  cuirassiers 
annihilated  seven  squares  out  of  thirteen,  took  or 
spiked  sixty  pieces  of  cannon,  and  took  from  the 
English  regiments  six  colors,  which  three  cuirassiers 
and  three  chasseurs  of  the  guard  carried  to  the 
Emperor  before  the  farm  of  la  Belle-Alliance. 

The  situation  of  Wellington  was  growing  worse. 
This  strange  battle  was  like  a  duel  between  two 
wounded  infuriates  who,  while  yet  fighting  and  re- 
sisting, lose  all  their  blood.  Which  of  the  two  shall 
fall  first  ?  Wellington  felt  that  he  was  giving  way. 
The  crisis  was  upon  him.  The  cuirassiers  had  not 
succeeded,  in  this  sense,  that  the  centre  was  not 


VICTOK  HUGO  173 

broken.  All  holding  the  plateau,  nobody  held  it, 
and  in  fact  it  remained  for  the  most  part  with  the 
English.  Wellington  held  the  village  and  the  crown- 
ing plain;  Ney  held  only  the  crest  and  the  slope. 
On  both  sides  they  seemed  rooted  in  this  funebral 
soil. 

But  the  enfeeblement  of  the  English  appeared  ir- 
remediable. The  hemorrhage  of  this  army  was  hor- 
rible. Kempt,  on  the  left  wing,  called  for  rein- 
forcements. Impossible,  answered  Wellington ;  we 
must  die  on  the  spot  we  now  occupy.  Almost  at  the 
same  moment — singular  coincidence  which  depicts 
the  exhaustion  of  both  armies — Ney  sent  to  Napoleon 
for  infantry,  and  Napoleon  exclaimed :  Infantry  ! 
where  does  lie  expect  me  to  take  them  ?  Does  he  expect 
me  to  make  them  ?  However,  the  English  army  was 
farthest  gone.  The  furious  onslaughts  of  these  great 
squadrons  with  iron  cuirasses  and  steel  breastplates 
had  ground  up  the  infantry.  At  five  o'clock  Wel- 
lington drew  out  his  watch,  and  was  heard  to  mur- 
mur these  sombre  words  :  Bliicher,  or  night ! 

It  was  about  this  time  that  a  distant  line  of  bay- 
onets glistened  on  the  heights  beyond  Frischemont. 
Here  is  the  turning-point  in  this  colossal  drama. 

The  rest  is  known ;  the  irruption  of  a  third  army, 
the  battle  thrown  out  of  joint,  eighty-six  pieces  of 
artillery  suddenly  thundering  forth,  a  new  battle 
falling  at  night-fall  upon  our  dismantled  regiments, 
the  whole  English  line  assuming  the  offensive  and 
pushed  forward,  the  gigantic  gap  made  in  the  French 
army,  the  English  grape  and  Prussian  grape  lending 
mutual  aid,  extermination,  disaster  in  front,  disaster 
in  flank,  the  Guard  entering  into  line  amid  this  ter- 
rible crumbling. 

Feeling  that  they  were  going  to  their  death,  they 


174  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

cried  out :  Vive  I'Empereur  !  There  is  nothing  more 
touching  in  history  than  this  death-agony  bursting 
forth  in  acclamations. 

Each  battalion  of  the  Guard,  for  this  final  effort, 
was  commanded  by  a  general.  Friant,  Michel,  Ko- 
guet,  Harlet,  Mallet,  Poret  de  Morvan,  were  there. 
When  the  tall  caps  of  the  Grenadiers  of  the  Guard 
with  their  large  eagle  plates  appeared,  symmetrical, 
drawn  up  in  line,  calm,  in  the  smoke  of  that  conflict, 
the  enemy  felt  respect  for  France ;  they  thought 
they  saw  twenty  victories  entering  upon  the  field  of 
battle,  with  wings  extended,  and  those  who  were  con- 
querors, thinking  themselves  conquered,  recoiled ; 
but  Wellington  cried :  Up  Guards,  and  at  them ! 
The  red  regiment  of  English  Guards,  lying  behind 
the  hedges,  rose  up,  a  shower  of  grape  riddled  the 
tricolored  flag  fluttering  about  our  eagles,  all  hurled 
themselves  forward,  and  the  final  carnage  began. 
The  Imperial  Guard  felt  the  army  slipping  away 
around  them  in  the  gloom,  and  the  vast  overthrow 
of  the  rout ;  they  heard  the  Sauve  qui  pent  !  which 
had  replaced  the  Vive  I'Empereur  !  and,  with  flight 
behind  them,  they  held  on  their  course,  battered 
more  and  more  and  dying  faster  and  faster  at  every 
step.  There  were  no  weak  souls  or  cowards  there. 
The  privates  of  that  band  were  as  heroic  as  their 
general.  Not  a  man  flinched  from  the  suicide. 

The  rout  behind  the  Guard  was  dismal. 

The  army  fell  back  rapidly  from  all  sides  at  once. 
The  cry  :  Treachery  !  was  followed  by  the  cry  :  Sauve 
qui  pent !  A  disbanding  army  is  a  thaw.  The  whole 
bends,  cracks,  snaps,  floats,  rolls,  falls,  crashes,  hur- 
ries, plunges.  Mysterious  disintegration.  Ney  bor- 
rows a  horso,  leaps  upon  him,  and  without  hat,  cra- 
vat, or  sword,  plants  himself  in  the  Brussels  road, 


VICTOR   HUGO  175 

arresting  at  once  the  English  and  the  French.  He 
endeavors  to  hold  the  army,  he  calls  them  back,  he 
reproaches  them,  he  grapples  with  the  rout.  He 
is  swept  away.  The  soldiers  flee  from  him,  cry- 
ing :  Vive  Marshal  Ney  !  Napoleon  gallops  along 
the  fugitives,  harangues  them,  urges,  threatens,  en- 
treats. The  mouths,  which  in  the  morning  were  crying 
Vive  VEmpereur,  are  now  agape  ;  he  is  hardly  rec- 
ognized. The  Prussian  cavalry,  just  come  up,  spring 
forward,  fling  themselves  upon  the  enemy,  sabre, 
cut,  hack,  kill,  exterminate.  Teams  rush  off,  the 
guns  are  left  to  the  care  of  themselves  ;  the  soldiers 
of  the  train  unhitch  the  caissons  and  take  the  horses 
to  escape  ;  wagons  upset,  with  their  four  wheels  in 
air,  block  up  the  road,  and  are  accessories  of  the 
massacre.  They  crush  and  they  crowd  ;  they  trample 
on  the  living  and  the  dead.  Arms  are  broken.  A  mul- 
titude fills  roads,  paths,  bridges,  plains,  hills,  valleys, 
woods,  choked  up  by  this  flight  of  fortjr  thousand 
men.  Cries,  despair ;  knapsacks  and  muskets  cast 
into  the  rye,  passages  forced  at  the  point  of  the 
sword :  no  more  comrades,  no  more  officers,  no  more 
generals ;  inexpressible  dismay. 

In  the  gathering  night,  on  a  field  near  Genappe, 
Bernard  and  Bertrand  seized  by  a  flap  of  his  coat 
and  stopped  a  haggard,  thoughtful,  gloomy  man, 
who,  dragged  thus  far  by  the  current  of  the  rout, 
had  dismounted,  passed  the  bridle  of  his  horse 
under  his  arm,  and,  with  a  bewildered  eye,  was  re- 
turning alone  toward  Waterloo.  It  was  Napoleon, 
endeavoring  to  advance  again,  mighty  somnambulist 
of  a  vanished  dream. 


WATERLOO 
VICTOB  HUGO 

Les  Miserables 

THE  battle  of  Waterloo  is  an  enigma.  It  is  as 
obscure  to  those  who  won  it  as  to  him  who  lost  it. 
To  Napoleon  it  is  a  panic  ;*  Bliicher  sees  in  it  only 
fire  ;  Wellington  comprehends  nothing  of  it.  Look 
at  the  reports.  The  bulletins  are  confused,  the  com- 
mentaries are  foggy.  The  former  stammer,  the  lat- 
ter falter.  Jomini  separates  the  battle  of  Waterloo 
into  four  periods ;  Muffling  divides  it  into  three  tides 
of  fortune ;  Charras  alone,  though  upon  some  points 
our  appreciation  differs  from  his,  has  seized  with 
his  keen  glance  the  characteristic  lineaments  of  that 
catastrophe  of  human  genius  struggling  with  divine 
destiny.  All  the  other  historians  are  blinded  by  the 
glare,  and  are  groping  about  in  that  blindness.  A 
day  of  lightnings,  indeed,  the  downfall  of  the  mili- 
tary monarchy,  which  to  the  great  amazement  of 
kings,  has  dragged  with  it  all  kingdoms,  the  fall  of 
force,  the  overthrow  of  war. 

In  this  event,  bearing  the  impress  of  superhu- 
man necessity,  man's  part  is  nothing. 

Does  taking  away  Waterloo  from  Wellington  and 
from  Bliicher  detract  anything  from  England  and 
Germany?  No.  Neither  illustrious  England  nor 

*  u  A  battle  ended,  a  day  finished,  false  measures  repaired, 
greater  success  assured  for  the  morrow,  all  was  lost  by  a  moment 
of  panic." — (Napoleon,  Dictations  at  St.  Helena.) 

176 


VICTOR  HUGO  177 

august  Germany  is  in  question  in  the  problem  of 
Waterloo.  Thank  heaven,  nations  are  great  aside 
from  the  dismal  chances  of  the  sword.  Neither  Ger- 
many, nor  England,  nor  France,  is  held  in  a  scab- 
bard. At  this  day,  when  Waterloo  is  only  a  clicking 
of  sabres,  above  Blucher,  Germany  has  Goethe,  and 
above  Wellington,  England  has  Byron.  A  vast  up- 
rising of  ideas  is  peculiar  to  our  century,  and  in  this 
aurora  England  and  Germany  have  a  magnificent 
share.  They  are  majestic  because  they  think.  The 
higher  plane  which  they  bring  to  civilization  is  in- 
trinsic to  them ;  it  comes  from  themselves,  and  not 
from  an  accident.  The  advancement  which  they 
have  made  in  the  nineteenth  century  does  not  spring 
from  Waterloo.  It  is  only  barbarous  nations  who 
have  a  sudden  growth  after  a  victory.  It  is  the 
fleeting  vanity  of  the  streamlet  swelled  by  the  storm. 
Civilized  nations,  especially  in  our  times,  are  not 
exalted  nor  abased  by  the  good  or  bad  fortune  of  a 
captain.  Their  specific  gravity  in  the  human  race 
results  from  something  more  than  a  combat.  Their 
honor,  thank  God,  their  dignity,  their  light,  their 
genius,  are  not  numbers  that  heroes  and  conquerors, 
those  gamblers,  can  cast  into  the  lottery  of  battles. 
Oftentimes  a  battle  lost  is  progress  attained.  Less 
glory,  m-ore  liberty.  The  drum  is  silent,  reason 
speaks.  It  is  the  game  at  which  he  who  loses,  gains. 
Let  us  speak,  then,  coolly  of  Waterloo  on  both  sides. 
Let  us  render  unto  Fortune  the  things  that  are  For- 
tune's, and  unto  God  the  things  that  are  God's. 
What  is  Waterloo  ?  A  victory  ?  No.  A  prize. 

A  prize  won  by  Europe,  paid  by  France. 

It  was  not  much  to  put  a  lion  there. 

Waterloo  moreover  is  the  strangest  encounter  in 
history.    Napoleon  and  Wellington :   they  are  not 


178  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

enemies,  they  are  opposites.  Never  has  God,  who 
takes  pleasure  in  antitheses,  made  a  more  strik- 
ing1 contrast  and  a  more  extraordinary  meeting". 
On  one  side,  precision,  foresight,  geometry,  pru- 
dence, retreat  assured,  reserves  economized,  obsti- 
nate composure,  imperturbable  method,  strategy  to 
profit  by  the  ground,  tactics  to  balance  battalions, 
carnage  drawn  to  the  line,  war  directed  watch  in 
hand,  nothing  left  voluntarily  to  chance,  ancient 
classic  courage,  absolute  correctness  ;  on  the  other, 
intuition,  inspiration,  a  military  marvel,  a  superhu- 
man instinct ;  a  flashing-  glance,  a  mysterious  some- 
thing which  g-azes  like  the  eagle  and  strikes  like  the 
thunderbolt,  prodigious  art  in  disdainful  impetuos- 
ity, all  the  mysteries  of  a  deep  soul,  intimacy  with 
destiny ;  river,  plain,  forest,  hill,  commanded,  and 
in  some  sort  forced  to  obey,  the  despot  going-  even 
so  far  as  to  tyrannize  over  the  battle-field  ;  faith  in  a 
star  joined  to  strategic  science,  increasing  it,  but 
disturbing  it.  Wellington  was  the  Barreme  of  war. 
Napoleon  was  its  Michael  Ang-elo,  and  this  time 
genius  was  vanquished  by  calculation. 

On  both  sides  they  were  expecting  somebody.  It 
was  the  exact  calculator  who  succeeded.  Napoleon 
expected  Grouchy ;  he  did  not  come.  Wellington 
expected  Bliicher ;  he  came. 

Wellington  is  classic  war  taking-  her  revenge. 
Bonaparte,  in  his  dawn,  had  met  her  in  Italy,  and 
defeated  her  superbly.  The  old  owl  fled  before 
the  young-  vulture.  Ancient  tactics  had  been  not 
only  thunderstruck,  but  had  received  mortal  offence. 
What  was  this  Corsican  of  twenty-six  ?  What 
meant  this  brilliant  'novice  who,  having  everything- 
against  him,  nothing  for  him,  with  no  provisions, 
no  munitions,  no  cannon,  no  shoes,  almost  without 


VICTOR  HUGO  179 

an  army,  with  a  handful  of  men  against  multitudes, 
rushed  upon  allied  Europe,  and  absurdly  gained 
victories  that  were  impossible  ?  Whence  came  this 
thundering  madman  who,  almost  without  taking 
breath,  and  with  the  same  set  of  combatants  in 
hand,  pulverized  one  after  the  other  the  five  armies 
of  the  Emperor  of  Germany?  Who  was  this  new 
comer  in  war  with  the  confidence  of  destiny? 
The  academic  military  school  excommunicated  him 
as  it  ran  away.  Thence  an  implacable  hatred  of  the 
old  system  of  war  against  the  new,  of  the  correct 
sabre  against  the  flashing  sword,  and  of  the  checker- 
board against  genius.  On  the  18th  of  June,  1815, 
this  hatred  had  the  last  word,  and  under  Lodi,  Mon- 
tebello,  Montenotte,  Mantua,  Marengo,  Arcola,  it 
wrote :  Waterloo. 

Waterloo  is  a  battle  of  the  first  rank  won  by  a 
captain  of  the  second. 

What  is  truly  admirable  in  the  battle  of  Waterloo 
is  England,  English  firmness,  English  resolution, 
English  blood ;  the  superb  thing  which  England 
had  there — may  it  not  displease  her — is  herself.  It 
is  not  her  captain,  it  is  her  army. 

Wellington,  strangely  ungrateful,  declared  in  a 
letter  to  Lord  Bathurst  that  his  army,  the  army  that 
fought  on  the  18th  of  June,  1815,  was  a  "  detestable 
army."  What  does  this  dark  assemblage  of  bones, 
buried  beneath  the  furrows  of  Waterloo,  think  of 
that? 

England  has  been  too  modest  in  regard  to  Wel- 
lington. To  make  Wellington  so  great  is  to  belittle 
England.  Wellington  is  but  a  hero  like  the  rest. 
These  Scotch  Grays,  these  Horse  Guards,  these  regi- 
ments of  Maitland  and  of  Mitchell,  this  infantry  of 
Peck  and  Kempt,  this  cavalry  of  Ponsonby  and  of 


180  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

Somerset,  these  Highlanders  playing  the  bagpipe 
under  the  storm  of  grape,  these  battalions  of  Ky- 
landt,  these  raw  recruits  who  hardly  knew  how  to 
handle  a  musket,  holding  out  against  the  veteran 
bands  of  Essling  and  Bivoli — all  that  is  grand. 
Wellington  was  tenacious,  that  was  his  merit,  and 
we  do  not  undervalue  it,  but  the  least  of  his  foot- 
soldiers  or  his  horsemen  was  quite  as  firm  as  he. 
The  iron  soldier  is  as  good  as  the  Iron  Duke.  For 
our  part,  all  our  glorification  goes  to  the  English 
soldier,  the  English  army,  the  English  people.  If 
trophy  there  be,  to  England  the  trophy  is  due.  The 
Waterloo  column  would  be  more  just  if,  instead  of 
the  figure  of  a  man,  it  lifted  to  the  clouds  the  statue 
of  a  nation. 

But  this  great  England  will  be  offended  at  what 
we  say  here.  She  has  still,  after  her  1688  and  our 
1789,  the  feudal  illusion.  She  believes  in  hereditary 
right  and  in  the  hierarchy.  This  people,  surpassed 
by  none  in  might  and  glory,  esteems  itself  as  a  na- 
tion, not  as  a  people.  So  much  so  that  as  a  people 
they  subordinate  themselves  willingly,  and  take  a 
lord  for  a  head.  Workmen,  they  submit  to  be  de- 
spised ;  soldiers,  they  submit  to  be  whipped.  We 
remember  that  at  the  battle  of  Inkerman  a  sergeant 
who,  as  it  appeared,  had  saved  the  army,  could  not 
be  mentioned  by  Lord  Eaglan,  the  English  military 
hierarchy  not  permitting  any  hero  below  the  rank 
of  officer  to  be  spoken  of  in  a  report. 

What  we  admire  above  all,  in  an  encounter  like 
that  of  Waterloo,  is  the  prodigious  skill  of  fortune. 
The  night's  rain,  the  wall  of  Hougomont,  the  sunken 
road  of  Ohain,  Grouchy  deaf  to  cannon,  Napoleon's 
guide  who  deceives  him,  Bulow's  guide  who  leads  him 
right ;  all  this  cataclysm  is  wonderfully  carried  out. 


VICTOR  HUGO  181 

Taken  as  a  whole,  let  us  say,  Waterloo  was  more 
of  a  massacre  than  a  battle. 

Of  all  great  battles,  Waterloo  is  that  which  has 
the  shortest  line  in  proportion  to  the  number  en- 
gaged. Napoleon,  two  miles,  Wellington,  a  mile 
and  a  half ;  seventy-two  thousand  men  on  each  side. 
From  this  density  came  the  carnage.  A  hundred 
and  forty-four  thousand  men  ;  sixty  thousand  dead. 

The  field  of  Waterloo  to-day  has  that  calm  which 
belongs  to  the  earth  ;  impassive  support  of  man ;  it 
resembles  any  other  plain. 

At  night,  however,  a  sort  of  visionary  mist  arises 
from  it,  and  if  some  traveller  be  walking  there,  if 
he  looks,  if  he  listens,  if  he  dreams  like  Virgil  in 
the  fatal  plain  of  Philippi,  he  becomes  possessed 
by  the  hallucination  of  the  disaster.  The  terrible 
18th  of  June  is  again  before  him ;  the  artificial  hill 
of  the  monument  fades  away,  this  lion,  whatever  it 
be,  is  dispelled  ;  the  field  of  battle  resumes  its  real- 
ity; the  lines  of  infantry  undulate  in  the  plain, 
furious  gallops  traverse  the  horizon  ;  the  bewildered 
dreamer  sees  the  flash  of  sabres,  the  glistening  of 
bayonets,  the  bursting  of  shells,  the  awful  inter- 
mingling of  the  thunders ;  he  hears,  like  a  death- 
rattle  from  the  depths  of  a  tomb,  the  vague  clamor 
of  the  phantom  battle ;  these  shadows  are  grena- 
diers; these  gleams  are  cuirassiers;  this  skeleton 
is  Napoleon  ;  that  skeleton  is  Wellington ;  all  this 
is  unreal,  and  yet  it  clashes  and  combats ;  and  the 
ravines  run  red,  and  the  trees  shiver,  and  there  is 
fury  even  in  the  clouds,  and,  in  the  darkness,  all 
those  savage  heights,  Mont  Saint  Jean,  Hougo- 
mont,  Frischemont,  Papelotte,  Planchenoit,  appear 
confusedly  crowned  with  whirlwinds  of  spectres  ex- 
terminating each  other. 


AMERICAN  TAXATION 
EDMUND  BUKKE 

House  of  Commons,  April  19,  1774 

[After  the  destruction  of  the  tea  in  Boston  Harbor,  Great  Britain 
adopted  violent  measures  against  the  colonists.  Laws  were  passed, 
depriving  Massachusetts  of  her  charter,  and  closing  Boston  Harbor 
against  all  commerce.  There  were  some,  however,  who  thought 
that  these  measures  should  be  accompanied  by  an  act  of  conciliation. 
Accordingly,  Mr.  Rose  Fuller  moved,  u  That  the  House  resolve  itself 
into  a  committee  of  the  whole  House,  to  take  into  consideration  the 
duty  of  three  pence  per  pound  on  tea,  payable  in  all  his  Majesty's 
dominions  in  America,  with  a  view  to  repealing  the  same."  Mr. 
Burke  seconded  the  motion,  and  supported  it  by  a  speech,  of  which 
the  following  is  a  part.] 

SIK — I  agree  with  the  honorable  gentleman  *  who 
spoke  last,  that  this  subject  is  not  new  in  this  House. 
Very  disagreeably  to  this  House,  very  unfortunately 
to  this  nation,  and  to  the  peace  and  prosperity  of 
this  whole  empire,  no  topic  has  been  more  familiar 
to  us.  For  nine  long  years,  session  after  session,  we 
have  been  lashed  round  and  round  this  miserable 
circle  of  occasional  arguments  and  temporary  expe- 
dients. I  am  sure  our  heads  must  turn,  and  our 
stomachs  nauseate  with  them.  We  have  had  them 
in  every  shape;  we  have  looked  at  them  in  every 
point  of  view.  Invention  is  exhausted  ;  reason  is 

•Charles  Wolf  ran  Cornwall,  Esq.,  one  of  the  Lords  of  the  Treas- 
ury, and  afterward  Speaker  of  the  House  of  Commons. 

182 


EDMUND   BUKKE  183 

fatigued  ;  experience  has  given  judgment ;  but  ob- 
stinacy is  not  yet  conquered. 

The  honorable  gentleman  has  made  one  endeavor 
more  to  diversify  the  form  of  this  disgusting  argu- 
ment. He  has  thrown  out  a  speech  composed  al- 
most entirely  of  challenges.  Challenges  are  serious 
things ;  and,  as  he  is  a  man  of  prudence  as  well  as 
resolution,  I  dare  say  he  has  very  well  weighed  those 
challenges  before  he  delivered  them.  I  had  long 
the  happiness  to  sit  at  the  same  side  of  the  House, 
and  to  agree  with  the  honorable  gentleman  on  all 
American  questions.  My  sentiments,  I  am  sure,  are 
well  known  to  him  ;  and  I  thought  I  had  been  per- 
fectly acquainted  with  his.  Though  I  find  myself 
mistaken,  he  will  still  permit  me  to  use  the  privilege 
of  an  old  friendship  ;  he  will  permit  me  to  apply 
myself  to  the  House  under  the  sanction  of  his  author- 
ity ;  and  on  the  various  grounds  he  has  measured 
out,  to  submit  to  you  the  poor  opinions  which  I  have 
formed  upon  a  matter  of  importance  enough  to  de- 
mand the  fullest  consideration  I  could  bestow  upon 
it. 

He  has  stated  to  the  House  two  grounds  of  delib- 
eration, one  narrow  and  simple,  and  merely  confined 
to  the  question  on  your  paper  ;  the  other  more  large 
and  complicated,  comprehending  the  whole  series 
of  the  parliamentary  proceedings  with  regard  to 
America,  their  causes  and  their  consequences. 

Sir,  I  will  freely  follow  the  honorable  gentleman 
in  his  historical  discussion,  without  the  least  man- 
agement for  men  or  measures,  farther  than  as  they 
shall  seem  to  me  to  deserve  it.  But  before  I  go  into 
that  large  consideration,  because  I  would  omit  noth- 
ing that  can  give  the  House  satisfaction,  I  wish  to 
tread  the  narrow  ground,  to  which  alone  the  honor- 


184  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

able  gentleman,  in  one  part  of  his  speech,  has  so 
strictly  confined  us. 

He  desires  to  know,  whether,  if  we  were  to  repeal 
this  tax  agreeably  to  the  proposition  of  the  honor- 
able gentleman  who  made  the  motion,  the  Americans 
would  not  take  post  on  this  concession,  in  order  to  make 
a  new  attack  on  the  next  body  of  taxes  ;  and  whether 
they  would  not  call  for  a  repeal  of  the  duty  on  wine 
as  loudly  as  they  do  now  for  the  repeal  of  the  duty 
on  tea?  Sir,  I  can  give  no  security  on  this  subject. 
But  I  will  do  all  that  I  can,  and  all  that  can  be  fairly 
demanded.  To  the  experience  which  the  honorable 
gentleman  reprobates  in  one  instant  and  reverts  to 
the  next ;  to  that  experience,  without  the  least  wa- 
vering or  hesitation  on  my  part,  I  steadily  appeal ; 
and  would  to  God  there  were  no  other  arbiter  to  de- 
cide on  the  vote  with  which  the  House  is  to  conclude 
this  day ! 

When  Parliament  repealed  the  Stamp  Act  in  the 
year  1766, 1  affirm,  first,  that  the  Americans  did  not, 
in  consequence  of  this  measure,  call  upon  you  to 
give  up  the  former  parliamentary  revenue  which 
subsisted  in  that  country,  or  even  any  one  of  the  ar- 
ticles which  compose  it.  I  affirm,  also,  that  when, 
departing  from  the  maxims  of  that  repeal,  you  re- 
vived the  scheme  of  taxation,  and  thereby  filled  the 
minds  of  the  colonists  with  new  jealousy,  and  all 
sorts  of  apprehension,  then  it  was  that  they  quar- 
relled with  the  old  taxes  as  well  as  the  new ;  then  it 
was,  and  not  till  then,  that  they  questioned  all  the 
parts  of  your  legislative  power  ;  and  by  the  battery 
of  such  questions  have  shaken  the  solid  structure  of 
this  empire  to  its  deepest  foundations. 

The  act  of  1767,  which  grants  this  tea  duty,  sets 
forth  in  its  preamble  that  it  was  expedient  to  raise 


EDMUND  BURKE  185 

a  revenue  in  America  for  the  support  of  the  civil 
government  there,  as  well  as  for  purposes  still  more 
extensive.  To  this  support  the  act  assigns  six 
branches  of  duties.  About  two  years  after  this  act 
passed,  the  ministry — I  mean  the  present  ministry 
— thought  it  expedient  to  repeal  five  of  the  duties, 
and  to  leave,  for  reasons  best  known  to  themselves, 
only  the  sixth  standing.  Suppose  any  person,  at 
the  time  of  that  repeal,  had  thus  addressed  the  min- 
ister :  "  Condemning,  as  you  do,  the  repeal  of  the 
Stamp  Act,  why  do  you  venture  to  repeal  the  duties 
upon  glass,  paper,  and  painter's  colors  ?  Let  your 
pretence  for  the  repeal  be  what  it  will,  are  you  not 
thoroughly  convinced  that  your  concessions  will 
produce,  not  satisfaction,  but  insolence,  in  the 
Americans ;  and  that  the  giving  up  these  taxes 
will  necessitate  the  giving  up  of  all  the  rest  ? " 
This  objection  was  as  palpable  then  as  it  is  now ; 
and  it  was  as  good  for  preserving  the  five  duties  as 
for  retaining  the  sixth. 

But  I  hear  it  continually  rung  in  my  ears,  now 
and  formerly,  "  the  preamble!  what  will  become  of 
the  preamble,  if  you  repeal  this  tax  ?  "  I  am  sorry 
to  be  compelled  so  often  to  expose  the  calamities 
and  disgraces  of  Parliament.  The  preamble  of  this 
law,  standing  as  it  now  stands,  has  the  lie  direct 
given  to  it  by  the  provisionary  part  of  the  act ;  if 
that  can  be  called  provisionary  which  makes  no 
provision.  I  should  be  afraid  to  express  myself 
in  this  manner,  especially  in  the  face  of  such  a  for- 
midable array  of  ability  as  is  now  drawn  up  before 
me,  composed  of  the  ancient  household  troops  of 
that  side  of  the  House,  and  the  new  recruits  from 
this,  if  the  matter  were  not  clear  and  indisputable. 
Nothing  but  truth  could  give  me  this  firmness  ;  but 


Io6  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

plain  truth  and  clear  evidence  can  be  beat  down  by 
no  ability.  The  clerk  will  be  so  good  as  to  turn  to 
the  act,  and  to  read  this  favorite  preamble. 

[It  was  read  in  the  following  words  : 

"  Whereas  it  is  expedient  that  a  revenue  should 
be  raised  in  your  Majesty's  dominions  in  America, 
for  making  a  more  certain  and  adequate  provision 
for  defraying  the  charge  of  the  administration  of 
justice  and  support  of  civil  government  in  such 
provinces  where  it  shall  be  found  necessary,  and 
toward  farther  defraying  the  expenses  of  defending, 
protecting,  and  securing  the  said  dominions."] 

You  have  heard  this  pompous  performance. 
Now  where  is  the  revenue  which  is  to  do  all  these 
mighty  things  ?  Five  sixths  repealed — abandoned 
— sunk — gone — lost  forever.  Does  the  poor  soli- 
tary tea  duty  support  the  purposes  of  this  pream- 
ble ?  Is  not  the  supply  there  stated  as  effectu- 
ally abandoned  as  if  the  tea  duty  had  perished  in 
the  general  wreck  ?  Here,  Mr.  Speaker,  is  a  pre- 
cious mockery — a  preamble  without  an  act — taxes 
granted  in  order  to  be  repealed — and  the  reasons  of 
the  grant  still  carefully  kept  up  !  This  is  raising  a 
revenue  in  America !  This  is  preserving  dignity  in 
England!  If  you  repeal  this  tax  in  compliance 
with  the  motion,  I  readily  admit  that  you  lose  this 
fair  preamble.  Estimate  your  loss  in  it.  The  ob- 
ject of  the  act  is  gone  already  ;  and  all  you  suffer  is 
the  purging  the  statute-book  of  the  opprobrium  of 
an  empty,  absurd,  and  false  recital. 

It  has  been  said  again  and  again,  that  the  five 
taxes  were  repealed  on  commercial  principles.  It 
is  so  said  in  the  paper  in  my  hand 1— -  a  paper  which 

*  Lord  Hillsborough's  circular  letter  to  the  governors  of  the 
colonies  concerning  the  repeal  of  some  of  the  duties  laid  in  the 
act  of  1767. 


EDMUND   BURKE  187 

I  constantly  carry  about,  which  I  have  often  used,  and 
shall  often  use  again.  What  is  gained  by  this  pal- 
try pretence  of  commercial  principles  I  know  not ; 
for,  if  your  government  in  America  is  destroyed  by 
the  repeal  of  taxes,  it  is  of  no  consequence  upon 
what  ideas  the  repeal  is  grounded.  Repeal  this  tax, 
too,  upon  commercial  principles,  if  you  please. 
These  principles  will  serve  as  well  now  as  they  did 
formerly.  But  you  know  that,  either  your  objection 
to  a  repeal  from  these  supposed  consequences  has 
no  validity,  or  that  this  pretence  never  could  re- 
move it.  This  commercial  motive  never  was  be- 
lieved by  any  man,  either  in  America,  which  this 
letter  is  meant  to  soothe,  or  in  England,  which  it 
is  meant  to  deceive.  It  was  impossible  it  should ; 
because  every  man,  in  the  least  acquainted  with  the 
detail  of  commerce,  must  know,  that  several  of  the 
articles  on  which  the  tax  was  repealed  were  fitter 
objects  of  duties  than  almost  any  other  articles  that 
could  possibly  be  chosen  ;  without  comparison  more 
so  than  the  tea  that  was  left  taxed,  as  infinitely 
less  liable  to  be  eluded  by  contraband.  The  tax 
upon  red  and  white  lead  was  of  this  nature.  You 
have,  in  this  kingdom,  an  advantage  in  lead  that 
amounts  to  a  monopoly.  When  you  find  yourself  in 
this  situation  of  advantage,  you  sometimes  venture 
to  tax  even  your  own  export.  You  did  so,  soon 
after  the  last  war,  when,  upon  this  principle,  you 
ventured  to  impose  a  duty  on  coals.  In  all  the  ar- 
ticles of  American  contraband  trade,  who  ever  heard 
of  the  smuggling  of  red  lead  and  white  lead  ?  You 
might,  therefore,  well  enough,  without  danger  of 
contraband,  and  without  injury  to  commerce  (if  this 
were  the  whole  consideration),  have  taxed  these 
commodities.  The  same  may  be  said  of  glass. 


188  PRACTICAL  PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

Besides,  some  of  the  things  taxed  were  so  trivial? 
that  the  loss  of  the  objects  themselves,  and  their 
utter  annihilation  out  of  American  commerce,  would 
have  been  comparatively  as  nothing-.  But  is  the 
article  of  tea  such  an  object  in  the  trade  of  England 
as  not  to  be  felt,  or  felt  but  slightly,  like  white 
lead,  and  red  lead,  and  painters'  colors  ?  Tea  is  an 
object  of  far  other  importance.  Tea  is  perhaps  the 
most  important  object,  taking  it  with  its  necessary 
connections,  of  any  in  the  mighty  circle  of  our  com- 
merce. If  commercial  principles  had  been  the  true 
motives  to  the  repeal,  or  had  they  been  at  all  at- 
tended to,  tea  would  have  been  the  last  article  we 
should  have  left  taxed  for  a  subject  of  controversy. 

Do  you  forget  that,  in  the  very  last  year,  you 
stood  on  the  precipice  of  a  general  bankruptcy? 
Your  danger  was  indeed  great.  You  were  distressed 
in  the  affairs  of  the  East  India  Company  ;  and  you 
well  know  what  sort  of  things  are  involved  in  the 
comprehensive  energy  of  that  significant  appella- 
tion. I  am  not  called  upon  to  enlarge  to  you  on 
that  danger,  which  you  thought  proper  yourselves 
to  aggravate,  and  to  display  to  the  world  with  all 
the  parade  of  indiscreet  declamation.  The  mo- 
opoly  of  the  most  lucrative  trades  and  the  posses- 
sion of  imperial  revenues  had  brought  you  to  the 
verge  of  beggary  and  ruin.  Such  was  your  repre- 
sentation— such,  in  some  measure,  was  your  case. 
The  vent  of  ten  millions  of  pounds  of  this  com- 
modity, now  locked  up  by  the  operation  of  an  in- 
judicious tax,  and  rotting  in  the  warehouses  of  the 
company,  would  have  prevented  all  this  distress, 
and  all  that  series  of  desperate  measures  which  you 
thought  yourselves  obliged  to  take  in  consequence 
of  it.  America  would  have  furnished  that  vent, 


EDMUND  BURKE  189 

which  no  other  part  of  the  world  can  furnish  but 
America  ;  where  tea  is  next  to  a  necessary  of  life, 
and  where  the  demand  grows  upon  the  supply.  I 
hope  our  dear-bought  East  India  committees  have 
done  us  at  least  so  much  good  as  to  let  us  know, 
that  without  a  more  extensive  sale  of  that  article, 
our  East  India  revenues  and  acquisitions  can  have 
no  certain  connection  with  this  country.  It  is 
through  the  American  trade  of  tea  that  your  East 
India  conquests  are  to  be  prevented  from  crushing 
you  with  their  burden.  They  are  ponderous  in- 
deed; and  they  must  have  that  great  country  to 
lean  upon,  or  they  tumble  upon  your  head.  It  is 
the  same  folly  that  has  lost  you  at  once  the  benefit 
of  the  West  and  of  the  East.  This  folly  has  thrown 
open  folding-doors  to  contraband,  and  will  be  the 
means  of  giving  the  profits  of  the  trade  of  your 
colonies  to  every  nation  but  yourselves.  Never  did 
a  people  suffer  so  much  for  the  empty  words  of  a 
preamble.  It  must  be  given  up.  For  on  what  prin- 
ciple does  it  stand?  This  famous  revenue  stands, 
at  this  hour,  on  all  the  debate,  as  a  description  of 
revenue  not  as  yet  known  in  all  the  comprehensive, 
but  too  comprehensive  vocabulary  of  finance — a  pre- 
ambulary  tax.  It  is,  indeed,  a  tax  of  sophistry,  a 
tax  of  pedantry,  a  tax  of  disputation,  a  tax  of  war 
and  rebellion,  a  tax  for  anything  but  benefit  to  the 
imposers,  or  satisfaction  to  the  subject. 

Well !  but,  whatever  it  is,  gentlemen  will  force  the 
colonists  to  take  the  teas.  You  will  force  them? 
Has  seven  years1  struggle  been  yet  able  to  force 
them  ?  O,  but  it  seems  we  are  yet  in  the  right.  The 
tax  is  "  trifling— in  effect,  it  is  rather  an  exoneration 
than  an  imposition  ;  three  fourths  of  the  duty  form- 
erly payable  on  teas  exported  to  America  is  taken 


190  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

off;  the  place  of  collection  is  only  shifted  ;  instead 
of  the  retention  of  a  shilling  from  the  drawback  here, 
it  is  threepence  custom  paid  in  America."  All  this, 
sir,  is  very  true.  But  this  is  the  very  folly  and  mis- 
chief of  the  act.  Incredible  as  it  may  seem,  you 
know  that  you  have  deliberately  thrown  away  a 
large  duty  which  you  held  secure  and  quiet  in  your 
hands,  for  the  vain  hope  of  getting-  one  three-fourths 
less,  through  every  hazard,  through  certain  litigation, 
and  possibly  through  war. 

Could  anything  be  a  subject  of  more  just  alarm  to 
America  than  to  see  you  go  out  of  the  plain  high 
road  of  finance,  and  give  up  your  most  certain  rev- 
enues and  your  clearest  interest  merely  for  the  sake 
of  insulting  your  colonies  ?  No  man  ever  doubted 
that  the  commodity  of  tea  could  bear  an  imposition 
of  threepence.  But  no  commodity  will  bear  three- 
pence, or  will  bear  a  penny,  when  the  general  feelings 
of  men  are  irritated,  and  two  millions  of  people  are 
resolved  not  to  pay.  The  feelings  of  the  colonies 
were  formerly  the  feelings  of  Great  Britain.  Theirs 
were  formerly  the  feelings  of  Mr.  Hampden  when 
called  upon  for  the  payment  of  twenty  shillings.* 
Would  twenty  shillings  have  ruined  Mr.  Hampden's 
fortune  ?  No  !  but  the  payment  of  half  twenty  shil- 
lings, on  the  principle  it  was  demanded,  would  have 
made  him  a  slave.  It  is  the  weight  of  that  preamble, 
of  which  you  are  so  fond,  and  not  the  weight  of  the 
duty,  that  the  Americans  are  unable  and  unwilling 
to  bear. 

It  is  then,  sir,  upon  the  principle  of  this  measure, 
and  nothing  else,  that  we  are  at  issue.  It  is  a  prin- 
ciple of  political  expediency.  Your  act  of  1767  as- 

*  The  refusal  of  this  celebrated  man  to  pay  "  ship-money,"  when, 
illegally  demanded  by  Charles  I.  is  known  to  all. 


EDMUND   BURKE  191 

serts  that  it  is  expedient  to  raise  a  revenue  in  Ameri- 
ca ;  your  act  of  1769  [March,  1770],  which  takes  away 
that  revenue,  contradicts  the  act  of  1767  ;  and,  by 
something1  much  stronger  than  words,  asserts  that  it 
is  not  expedient.  It  is  a  reflection  on  your  wisdom 
to  persist  in  a  solemn  parliamentary  declaration  of 
expediency  of  any  object,  for  which,  at  the  same  time, 
you  make  no  sort  of  provision.  And  pray,  sir,  let 
not  this  circumstance  escape  you — it  is  very  ma- 
terial— that  the  preamble  of  this  act,  which  we  wish  to 
repeal,  is  not  declaratory  of  a  right,  as  some  gentle- 
men seem  to  argue  it ;  it  is  only  a  recital  of  the  ex- 
pediency of  a  certain  exercise  of  a  right  supposed 
already  to  have  been  asserted  ;  an  exercise  you  are 
now  contending  for  by  ways  and  means,  which  you 
confess,  though  they  were  obeyed,  to  be  utterly  in- 
sufficient for  their  purpose.  You  are,  therefore,  at 
this  moment  in  the  awkward  situation  of  fighting  for  a 
phantom — a  quiddity — a  thing  that  wants  not  only  a 
substance,  but  even  a  name  ;  for  a  thing  which  is 
neither  abstract  right,  nor  profitable  enjoyment. 

They  tell  you,  sir,  that  your  dignity  is  tied  to  it.  I 
know  not  how  it  happens,  but  this  dignity  of  yours  is 
a  terrible  encumbrance  to  you,  for  it  has  of  late  been 
continually  at  war  with  your  interest,  your  equity, 
and  every  idea  of  your  policy.  Show  the  thing  you 
contend  for  to  be  reason  ;  show  it  to  be  common  sense ; 
show  it  to  be  the  means  of  attaining  some  useful  end ; 
and  then  I  am  content  to  allow  it  what  dignity  you 
please.  But  what  dignity  is  derived  from  the  per- 
severance in  absurdity,  is  more  than  ever  I  could 
discern.  The  honorable  gentleman  has  said  well — 
indeed,  in  most  of  his  general  observations  I  agree 
with  him — he  says,  that  this  subject  does  not  stand 
as  it  did  formerly.  Oh,  certainly  not !  every  hour 


192  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

you  continue  on  this  ill-chosen  ground,  your  diffi- 
culties thicken  on  you ;  and,  therefore,  my  conclu- 
sion is,  remove  from  a  bad  position  as  quickly  as 
you  can.  The  disgrace,  and  the  necessity  of  yield- 
ing, both  of  them,  grow  upon  you  every  hour  of  your 
delay. 

Sir,  the  honorable  gentleman  having  spoken  what 
he  thought  necessary  upon  the  narrow  part  of  the 
subject,  I  have  given  him,  I  hope,  a  satisfactory  an- 
swer. He  next  presses  me,  by  a  variety  of  direct 
challenges  and  oblique  reflections,  to  say  something 
on  the  HISTORICAL  PART.  I  shall  therefore,  sir,  open 
myself  fully  on  that  important  and  delicate  subject ; 
not  for  the  sake  of  telling  you  a  long  story  (which 
I  know,  Mr.  Speaker,  you  are  not  particularly  fond 
of),  but  for  the  sake  of  the  weighty  instruction  that, 
I  flatter  myself,  will  necessarily  result  from  it.  It 
shall  not  be  longer,  if  I  can  help  it,  than  so  serious 
a  matter  requires. 

[Mr.  Burke  then  enters  upon  an  extended  review 
of  the  history  of  British  finance,  concluding  his 
speech  with  the  following  summary  and  appeal :  ] 

Now,  sir,  I  trust  I  have  shown,  first,  on  that 
narrow  ground  which  the  honorable  gentleman 
measured,  that  you  are  like  to  lose  nothing  by  com- 
plying with  the  motion  except  what  you  have  lost 
already.  I  have  shown  afterward,  that  in  time  of 
peace  you  flourished  in  commerce,  and  when  war 
required  it,  had  sufficient  aid  from  the  colonies, 
while  you  pursued  your  ancient  policy ;  that  you 
threw  everything  into  confusion  when  you  made 
the  Stamp  Act;  and  that  you  restored  everything 
to  peace  and  order  when  you  repealed  it.  I  have 
shown  that  the  revival  of  the  system  of  taxation  has 
produced  the  very  worst  effects ;  and  that  the  par- 


EDMUND   BURKE  193 

tial  repeal  has  produced,  not  partial  good,  but  uni- 
versal evil.  Let  these  considerations,  founded  on 
facts,  not  one  of  which  can  be  denied,  bring  us  back 
to  our  reason  by  the  road  of  our  experience. 

I  cannot,  as  I  have  said,  answer  for  mixed  meas- 
ures ;  but  surely  this  mixture  of  lenity  would  give 
the  whole  a  better  chance  of  success.  When  you 
once  regain  confidence,  the  way  will  be  clear  before 
you.  Then  you  may  enforce  the  Act  of  Navigation 
when  it  ought  to  be  enforced.  You  will  yourselves 
open  it  where  it  ought  still  farther  to  be  opened. 
Proceed  in  what  you  do,  whatever  you  do,  from  pol- 
icy, and  not  from  rancor.  Let  us  act  like  men,  let 
us  act  like  statesmen.  Let  us  hold  some  sort  of 
consistent  conduct.  It  is  agreed  that  a  revenue  is 
not  to  be  had  in  America.  If  we  lose  the  profit,  let 
us  get  rid  of  the  odium. 

On  this  business  of  America  I  confess  I  am  seri- 
ous even  to  sadness.  I  have  had  but  one  opinion 
concerning  it  since  I  sat,  and  before  I  sat,  in  Parlia- 
ment. The  noble  Lord  [Lord  North]  will,  as  usual, 
probably  attribute  the  part  taken  by  me  and  my 
friends  in  this  business  to  a  desire  of  getting  his 
place.  Let  him  enjoy  this  happy  and  original  idea. 
If  I  deprived  him  of  it,  I  should  take  away  most  of 
his  wit  and  all  his  argument.  But  I  had  rather  bear 
the  brunt  of  all  his  wit,  and,  indeed,  blows  much 
heavier,  than  stand  answerable  to  God  for  embrac- 
ing a  system  that  tends  to  the  destruction  of  some 
of  the  very  best  and  fairest  of  his  works.  But  I 
know  the  map  of  England  as  well  as  the  noble  Lord 
or  as  any  other  person  ;  and  I  know  that  the  way 
I  take  is  not  the  road  to  preferment.  My  excellent 
and  honorable  friend  under  me  on  the  floor  [Mr. 
Dowdeswell]  has  trod  that  road  with  great  toil  for 


194  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC    SPEAKING 

upward  of  twenty  years  together.  He  is  not  yet 
arrived  at  the  noble  Lord's  destination.  However, 
the  tracks  of  my  worthy  friend  are  those  I  have 
ever  wished  to  follow,  because  I  know  they  lead  to 
honor.  Long  may  we  tread  the  same  road  to- 
gether, whoever  may  accompany  us,  or  whoever 
may  laugh  at  us  on  our  journey.  I  honestly  and 
solemnly  declare,  I  have  in  all  seasons  adhered  to 
the  system  of  1766,  for  no  other  reason  than  that  I 
think  it  laid  deep  in  your  truest  interests ;  and  that, 
by  limiting  the  exercise,  it  fixes  on  the  firmest  foun- 
dations a  real,  consistent,  well-grounded  authority 
in  Parliament.  Until  you  come  back  to  that  system, 
there  will  be  no  peace  for  England. 

HENRY'S  SPEECH  BEFORE  HARFLEUR. 

K.  Hen.    Once  more  unto  the  breach,  dear  friends 

once  more ; 

Or  close  the  wall  up  with  our  English  dead ! 
In  peace  there's  nothing  so  becomes  a  man 
As  modest  stillness  and  humility  : 
But  when  the  blast  of  war  blows  in  our  ears, 
Then  imitate  the  action  of  the  tiger  ; 
Stiffen  the  sinews,  summon  up  the  blood, 
Disguise  fair  nature  with  hard-favor'd  rage ; 
Then  lend  the  eye  a  terrible  aspect ; 
Let  it  pry  through  the  portage  of  the  head 
Like  the  brass  cannon  ;  let  the  brow  o'erwhelm  it 
As  fearfully  as  doth  a  galled  rock 
O'erhang  and  jutty  his  confounded  base, 
Swill'd  with  the  wild  and  wasteful  ocean. 
Now  set  the  teeth  and  stretch  the  nostril  wide  ; 
Hold  hard  the  breath,  and  bend  up  every  spirit 
To  his  full  height !— On,  on,  you  noble  English, 


SHAKESPEARE  195 

Whose  blood  is  fet  from  fathers  of  war-proof ! 
Fathers  that,  like  so  many  Alexanders, 
Have  in  these  parts  from  morn  till  even  fought, 
And  sheath'd  their  swords  for  lack  of  argument : — 
Dishonor  not  your  mothers  ;  now  attest 
That  those  whom  you  call'd  fathers  did  beget  you ! 
Be  copy  now  to  men  of  grosser  blood, 
And  teach  them  how  to  war  : — And  you,  good  yeo- 
men, 

Whose  limbs  were  made  in  England,  show  us  here 
The  mettle  of  your  pasture  ;  let  us  swear 
That  you  are  worth  your  breeding :  which  I  doubt 

not; 

For  there  is  none  of  you  so  mean  and  base, 
That  hath  not  noble  lustre  in  your  eyes. 
I  see  you  stand  like  greyhounds  in  the  slips, 
Straining  upon  the  start.     The  game's  afoot : 
Follow  your  spirit ;  and  upon  this  charge 
Cry — God  for  Harry  !  England !  and  Saint  George ! 
— King  Henry  Y.,  Act  III.,  Sc.  1. 


AN  APPEAL  FOE  LIBEETY 
JOSEPH  STOKY 

Salem,  Mass.,  September  18,  1828 

I  CALL  upon  you,  fathers,  by  the  shades  of  your 
ancestors — by  the  dear  ashes  which  repose  in  this 
precious  soil — by  all  you  are,  and  all  you  hope  to 
be — resist  every  object  of  disunion,  resist  every  en- 
croachment upon  your  liberties,  resist  every  attempt 
to  fetter  your  consciences,  or  smother  your  public 
schools,  or  extinguish  your  system  of  public  instruc- 
tion. 

I  call  upon  you,  mothers,  by  that  which  never  fails 
in  woman,  the  love  of  your  offspring ;  teach  them,  as 
they  climb  your  knees,  or  lean  on  your  bosoms,  the 
blessings  of  liberty.  Swear  them  at  the  altar,  as 
with  their  baptismal  vows,  to  be  true  to  their  coun- 
try, and  never  to  forget  or  forsake  her. 

I  call  upon  you,  young  men,  to  remember  whose 
sons  you  are ;  whose  inheritance  you  possess.  Life 
can  never  be  too  short,  which  brings  nothing  but 
disgrace  and  oppression.  Death  never  comes  too 
soon,  if  necessary  in  defence  of  the  liberties  of  your 
country. 

I  call  upon  you,  old  men,  for  your  counsels,  and 
your  prayers,  and  your  benedictions.  May  not  your 
gray  hairs  go  down  in  sorrow  to  the  grave,  with  the 
recollection  that  you  have  lived  in  vain.  May  not 

196 


JOSEPH   STORY  197 

your  last  sun  sink  in  the  west  upon  a  nation  of 
slaves. 

No ;  I  read  in  the  destiny  of  my  country  far  better 
hopes,  far  brighter  visions.  We,  who  are  now  as- 
sembled here,  must  soon  be  gathered  to  the  congre- 
gation of  other  days.  The  time  of  our  departure  is 
at  hand,  to  make  way  for  our  children  upon  the 
theatre  of  life.  May  God  speed  them  and  theirs. 
May  he  who,  at  the  distance  of  another  century, 
shall  stand  here  to  celebrate  this  day,  still  look 
round  upon  a  free,  happy,  and  virtuous  people. 
May  he  have  reason  to  exult  as  we  do.  May  he, 
with  all  the  enthusiasm  of  truth  as  well  as  of  poetry, 
exclaim,  that  here  is  still  his  country. 


PLEA  FOR  THE  OLD  SOUTH  CHTJBCH, 
BOSTON 

WENDELL  PHILLIPS 

Boston,  June  4,  1876 

A  HUNDRED  years  ago  our  fathers  announced  this 
sublime  declaration,  "  God  intended  all  men  to  be 
free  and  equal."  To-day,  with  a  territory  that  joins 
ocean  to  ocean,  with  her  millions  of  people,  with  two 
wars  behind  her,  with  the  sublime  achievement  of 
having  grappled  with  the  fearful  disease  that  threat- 
ened her  life,  and  broken  four  millions  of  fetters,  the 
great  Kepublic  launches  into  the  second  century  of 
her  existence. 

With  how  much  pride,  with  what  a  thrill,  with 
what  tender  and  loyal  reverence,  may  we  not  cherish 
the  spot  where  this  marvellous  enterprise  began,  the 
roof  under  which  its  first  councils  were  held,  where 
the  air  still  trembles  and  burns  with  Otis  and  Sam 
Adams.  Except  the  Holy  City,  is  there  any  more 
memorable  or  sacred  place,  on  the  face  of  the  earth, 
than  the  cradle  of  such  a  change  ?  Athens  has  her 
Acropolis,  but  the  Greek  can  point  to  no  such  results. 
London  has  her  Palace,  and  her  Tower,  and  her  St. 
Stephen's  Chapel,  but  the  human  race  owes  her  no 
such  memories.  France  has  spots  marked  by  the 
sublimest  devotion,  but  the  Mecca  of  the  man  who 
believes  and  hopes  for  the  human  race  is  not  to 
Paris,  it  is  to  the  seaboard  cities  of  the  great  Ke- 

198 


WENDELL   PHILLIPS  199 

public.  And  when  the  flag  was  assailed,  and  the 
regiments  marched  through  the  streets,  what  walls 
did  they  salute  as  the  regimental  flags  floated  by  to 
Gettsyburg  and  Antietam  ?  These  !  Our  boys  carried 
down  to  the  battle-fields  the  memory  of  State  Street, 
of  Faneuil  Hall,  of  the  Old  South  Church. 

We  had  signal  prominence  in  those  early  days.  It 
was  on  the  men  of  Boston  that  Lord  North  visited  his 
revenge.  It  was  our  port  that  was  to  be  shut  and  its 
commerce  annihilated.  It  was  Sam  Adams  and  John 
Hancock  who  enjoyed  the  everlasting  reward  of  being 
the  only  names  excepted  from  the  royal  proclama- 
tion of  forgiveness.  Here,  Sam  Adams,  the  ablest 
and  ripest  statesman  God  gave  to  the  epoch,  forecast 
those  measures  which  welded  thirteen  colonies  into 
one  thunderbolt,  and  launched  it  at  George  the 
Third.  Here,  Otis  magnetized  every  boy  into  a 
desperate  rebel. 

The  saving  of  this  landmark  is  the  best  monu- 
ment you  can  erect  to  the  men  of  the  ^Revolution. 
You  spend  thousands  of  dollars  to  put  up  a  statue 
of  some  old  hero.  You  want  your  sons  to  gaze  upon 
the  nearest  approach  to  the  features  of  those  "  dead 
but  sceptred  sovereigns  who  still  rule  our  spirits 
from  their  urns."  But  what  is  a  statue  of  Cicero, 
compared  to  standing  where  your  voice  echoes  from 
pillar  and  wall  that  actually  heard  his  philippics  ? 
Scholars  have  grown  old  and  blind,  striving  to  put 
their  hands  on  the  very  spot  where  bold  men  spoke 
or  brave  men  died.  Shall  we  tear  in  pieces  the  roof 
that  actually  trembled  to  the  words  that  made  us  a 
nation  ?  It  is  impossible  not  to  believe,  if  the  spirits 
above  us  are  permitted  to  know  what  passes  in  thfe' 
terrestrial  sphere,  that  Adams,  and  Warren,  and  Otis 
are  to-day  bending  over  us  asking  that  the  scene  of 


200  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

their  Immortal  labors  shall  not  be  desecrated,  or 
blotted  from  the  sight  of  men. 

Consecrate  it  again  to  the  memory  and  worship  of 
a  grateful  people !  Napoleon  turned  aside  his  Simp- 
Ion  road  to  save  a  tree  Caesar  had  once  mentioned. 
Won't  you  turn  a  street,  or  spare  a  quarter  of  an 
acre,  to  remind  boys  what  sort  of  men  their  fathers 
were?  Think  twice  before  you  touch  these  walls. 
We  are  the  world's  trustees.  The  Old  South  no 
more  belongs  to  us,  than  Luther's  or  Hampden's 
or  Brutus's  name  does  to  Germany,  England,  or 
Rome.  Each  and  all  are  held  in  trust  as  torchlight 
guides  and  inspiration  for  any  man  struggling  for 
justice  and  ready  to  die  for  truth.  The  worship  of 
great  memories,  noble  deeds,  sacred  places,  is  one 
of  the  keenest  ripeners  of  such  elements.  Seize 
greedily  on  every  chance  to  save  and  emphasize 
them. 


part  Jive 
ORATIONS 


CHAPTEE  XH 

ORATIONS 

THE  concluding  part  contains  representative  ora- 
tions selected  from  the  broad  field  of  British  and 
American  oratory.  They  have  been  chosen  largely 
because  of  their  vital  directness  and  simplicity  of 
style.  From  these  orations  the  student  may  derive 
for  himself  many  of  the  principles  that  will  not  only 
be  of  benefit  to  his  delivery,  but  also  will  assist  him 
to  a  clearer  understanding  of  those  laws  that  must 
govern  in  the  construction  of  every  true  oration. 

In  preparing  these  selections  the  student  should 
make  a  brief  analysis  of  each,  determining  carefully 
the  main  purpose  of  the  oration,  the  plan  of  develop- 
ment, and  the  feeling  that  prevails  in  each  paragraph. 
Then,  in  his  delivery,  he  may  carry  into  practice  all 
of  the  principles  that  have  been  presented  in  this 
book.  It  is  deemed  best  to  insert  complete  ora- 
tions in  this  concluding  chapter  in  order  that  the 
student  may  derive  the  benefit  that  can  come  only 
from  contact  with  complete  productions.  For  class 
use  in  declamation,  however,  certain  portions  may  be 
omitted  not  only  without  loss  to  the  student,  but  to 
his  positive  advantage. 

203 


REPEAL  OF  THE  UNION 
DANIEL  O'CONNELL 

Hill  of  Tara,  August  15th,  1843 

[•'  OP  all  mass  meetings  ever  heard  of,  this  was  unquestionably 
the  greatest.  It  was  computed  by  reliable  witnesses,  not  at  all 
favorable  to  the  cause  which  O'Connell  espoused,  that  no  fewer 
than  a  quarter  of  a  million  persons  must  have  been  present.  They 
came  from  all  parts  of  the  country  round,  under  the  guidance  of 
their  parish  priests."] 

FELLOW-IRISHMEN— It  would  be  the  extreme  of 
affectation  in  me  to  suggest  that  I  have  not  some 
claim  to  be  the  leader  of  this  majestic  meeting.  It 

f  would  be  worse  than  affectation ;  it  would  be  drivel- 
ling folly,  if  I  were  not  to  feel  the  awful  responsibil- 
ity to  my  country  and  my  Creator  which  the  part  I 
have  taken  in  this  mighty  movement  imposes  on  me. 

•  Yes ;  I  feel  the  tremendous  nature  of  that  respon- 
sibility. Ireland  is  roused  from  one  end  to  the 
other.  Her  multitudinous  population  has  but  one 
expression  and  one  wish,  and  that  is  for  the  extinc- 
tion of  the  Union  and  the  restoration  of  her  nation- 
ality. [A  cry  of"  No  compromise  /  "]  Who  talks  of 
compromise?  I  have  come  here,  not  for  the  pur- 
pose of  making  a  schoolboy's  attempt  at  declama- 
tory eloquence,  not  to  exaggerate  the  historical 
importance  of  the  spot  on  which  we  now  stand,  or 
to  endeavor  to  revive  in  your  recollection  any  of 
those  poetic  imaginings  respecting  it  which  have 

204 


DANIEL  O'CONNELL  205 

been  as  familiar  as  household  words.  But  this  it 
is  impossible  to  conceal  or  deny,  that  Tara  is  sur- 
rounded by  historical  reminiscences  which  give  it 
an  importance  worthy  of  being"  considered  by  every- 
one who  approaches  it  for  political  purposes,  and 
an  elevation  in  the  public  mind  which  no  other  part 
of  Ireland  possesses.  We  are  standing  upon  Tara 
of  the  Kings  ;  the  spot  where  the  monarchs  of  Ire- 
land were  elected,  and  where  the  chieftains  of  Ire- 
land bound  themselves,  by  the  most  solemn  pledges 
of  honor,  to  protect  their  native  land  against  the 
Dane  and  every  stranger.  This  was  emphatically 
the  spot  from  which  emanated  every  social  power 
and  legal  authority  by  which  the  force  of  the  entire 
country  was  concentrated  for  the  purposes  of  na- 
tional defence. 

On  this  spot  I  have  a  most  important  duty  to  per- 
form. I  here  protest,  in  the  name  of  my  country 
and  in  the  name  of  my  God,  against  the  unfounded 
and  unjust  Union.  My  proposition  to  Ireland  is 
that  the  Union  is  not  binding  on  her  people.  It  is 
void  in  conscience  and  in  principle,  and  as  a  matter 
of  constitutional  law  I  attest  these  facts.  Yes,  I 
attest  by  everything  that  is  sacred,  without  being 
profane,  the  truth  of  my  assertions.  There  is  no  real 
union  between  the  two  countries,  and  my  proposi- 
tion is  that  there  was  no  authority  given  to  anyone 
to  pass  the  Act  of  Union.  Neither  the  English  nor 
the  Irish  Legislature  was  competent  to  pass  that 
Act,  and  I  arraign  it  on  these  grounds.  One  au- 
thority alone  could  make  that  Act  binding,  and  that 
was  the  voice  of  the  people  of  Ireland.  The  Irish 
Parliament  was  elected  to  make  laws  and  not  to 
make  legislatures  ;  and,  therefore,  it  had  no  right  to 
assume  the  authority  to  pass  the  Act  of  Union.  The 


206  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

Irish  Parliament  was  elected  by  the  Irish  people  as 
their  trustees ;  the  people  were  their  masters,  and 
the  members  were  their  servants,  and  had  no  right 
to  transfer  the  property  to  any  other  power  on  earth. 
If  the  Irish  Parliament  had  transferred  its  power  of 
legislation  to  the  French  Chamber,  would  any  man 
assert  that  the  Act  was  valid  ?  Would  any  man  be 
mad  enough  to  assert  it ;  would  any  man  be  insane 
enough  to  assert  it,  and  would  the  insanity  of  the 
assertion  be  mitigated  by  sending  any  number  of 
members  to  the  French  Chamber  ?  Everybody  must 
admit  that  it  would  not.  What  care  I  for  France  ? — 
and  I  care  as  little  for  England  as  for  France,  for 
both  countries  are  foreign  to  me.  The  very  highest 
authority  in  England  has  proclaimed  us  to  be  aliens 
in  blood,  in  religion,  and  in  language.  [Groans.] 
Do  not  groan  him  for  having  proved  himself  honest 
on  one  occasion  by  declaring  my  opinion.  But  to 
show  the  invalidity  of  the  Union  I  could  quote  the 
authority  of  Locke  on  "  Parliament."  I  will,  how- 
ever, only  detain  you  by  quoting  the  declaration  of 
Lord  Plunket  in  the  Irish  Parliament,  who  told  them 
that  they  had  no  authority  to  transfer  the  legislation 
of  the  country  to  other  hands.  As  well,  said  he, 
might  a  maniac  imagine  that  the  blow  by  which  he 
destroys  his  wretched  body  annihilates  his  immortal 
soul,  as  you  to  imagine  that  you  can  annihilate  the 
soul  of  Ireland — her  constitutional  rights. 

I  need  not  detain  you  by  quoting  authorities  to 
show  the  invalidity  of  the  Union.  I  am  here  the 
representative  of  the  Irish  nation,  and  in  the  name 
of  that  moral,  temperate,  virtuous,  and  religious 
people,  I  proclaim  the  Union  a  nullity.  Saurin, 
who  had  been  the  representative  of  the  Tory  party 
for  twenty  years,  distinctly  declared  that  the  Act  of 


DANIEL   O'CONNELL  207 

Union  was  invalid.  He  said  that  the  Irish  House  of 
Commons  had  no  right,  had  no  power,  to  pass  the 
Union,  and  that  the  people  of  Ireland  would  be  jus- 
tified, the  first  opportunity  that  presented  itself,  in 
effecting  its  repeal.  So  they  are.  The  authorities 
of  the  country  were  charged  with  the  enactment,  the 
alteration,  or  the  administration  of  its  laws.  These 
were  their  powers ;  but  they  had  no  authority  to 
alter  or  overthrow  the  Constitution.  I  therefore 
proclaim  the  nullity  of  the  Union.  In  the  face  of 
Europe  I  proclaim  its  nullity.  In  the  face  of  France, 
especially,  and  of  Spain,  I  proclaim  its  nullity ;  and 
I  proclaim  its  nullity  in  the  face  of  the  liberated 
States  of  America.  I  go  farther,  and  proclaim  its 
nullity  on  the  grounds  of  the  iniquitous  means  by 
which  it  was  carried.  It  was  effected  by  the  most 
flagrant  fraud.  A  rebellion  was  provoked  by  the 
Government  of  the  day,  in  order  that  they  might  have 
a  pretext  for  crushing  the  liberties  of  Ireland.  There 
was  this  addition  to  the  fraud,  that  at  the  time  of 
the  Union,  Ireland  had  no  legal  protection.  The 
Habeas  Corpus  Act  was  suspended,  and  the  lives 
and  liberties  of  the  people  were  at  the  mercy  of 
courts  martial.  You  remember  the  shrieks  of  those 
who  suffered  under  martial  law.  One  day,  from 
Trim,  the  troops  marched  out  and  made  desolate  the 
country  around  them.  No  man  was  safe  during  the 
entire  time  the  Union  was  under  discussion.  The 
next  fraud  was  that  the  Irish  people  were  not  al- 
lowed to  meet  to  remonstrate  against  it.  Two 
county  meetings,  convened  by  the  High  Sheriffs  of 
these  counties,  pursuant  to  requisitions  presented  to 
them,  were  dispersed  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet. 
In  King's  County  the  High  Sheriff  called  the  people 
together  in  the  Court-house,  and  Colonel  Connor  of 


208  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

the  North  Cork  Militia,  supported  by  artillery  and 
a  troop  of  horse,  entered  the  Court-house  at  the 
head  of  200  of  his  regiment  and  turned  out  the 
Sheriff,  Magistrates,  Grand  Jurors,  and  freeholders 
assembled  to  petition  against  the  enactment  of  the 
Union.  [A  YOICE. — "  We'll  engage  they  won't  do  it 
now  !  "]  In  Tipperary  a  similar  scene  took  place. 
A  meeting  convened  by  the  High  Sheriff  was  dis- 
persed at  the  point  of  the  bayonet.  Thus  public 
sentiment  was  stifled ;  and  if  there  was  a  compact, 
as  is  alleged,  it  is  void  on  account  of  the  fraud  and 
force  by  which  it  was  carried.  But  the  voice  of  Ire- 
land, though  forcibly  suppressed  at  public  meetings, 
was  not  altogether  dumb.  Petitions  were  presented 
against  the  Union  to  which  were  attached  no  less 
than  770,000  signatures.  And  there  were  not  3,000 
signatures  for  the  Union,  notwithstanding  all  the 
Government  could  do. 

My  next  impeachment  against  the  Union  is  the 
gross  corruption  with  which  it  was  carried.  No  less 
than  £1,275,000  was  spent  upon  the  rotten  boroughs, 
and  £2,000,000  was  given  in  direct  bribery.  There 
was  not  one  office  that  was  not  made  instrumental  to 
the  carrying  of  the  measure.  Six  or  seven  judges 
were  raised  to  the  Bench  for  the  votes  they  gave  in 
its  support ;  and  no  less  than  twelve  bishops  were 
elevated  to  the  Episcopal  Bench  for  having  taken 
the  side  of  the  Union ;  for  corruption  then  spared 
nothing  to  effect  its  purpose — corruption  was  never 
carried  so  far ;  and  if  this  is  to  be  binding  on  the 
Irish  nation,  there  is  no  use  in  honesty  at  all.  Yet 
in  spite  of  all  the  means  employed,  the  enemies  of 
Ireland  did  not  succeed  at  once.  There  was  a  ma- 
jority of  eleven  against  the  Union  the  first  time. 
But  before  the  proposition  was  brought  forward  a 


DANIEL   O'OONNELL  209 

second  time,  members  who  could  not  be  influenced 
to  vote  for  the  measure  were  bribed  to  vacate  their 
seats,  to  which  a  number  of  English  and  Scotch  of- 
ficers, brought  over  for  the  purpose,  were  elected, 
and  by  their  votes  the  Union  was  carried.  In  the 
name  of  the  great  Irish  nation  I  proclaim  it  a  nul- 
lity. At  the  time  of  the  Union  the  national  debt  of 
Ireland  was  only  £20,000,000.  The  debt  of  England 
was  £440,000,000.  England  took  upon  herself  one- 
half  of  the  Irish  debt,  but  she  placed  upon  Ireland 
one-half  of  the  £440,000,000.  England  since  that 
period  has  doubled  her  debt,  and  admitting  a  pro. 
portionate  increase  against  Ireland,  the  Irish  debt 
would  not  now  be  more  than  £40,000,000 ;  and  you 
may  believe  me  when  I  say  it  in  the  name  of  the 
great  Irish  people,  that  we  will  never  pay  one  shil- 
ling more.  In  fact,  we  owe  but  £30,000,  as  is  clearly 
demonstrated  in  a  book  lately  published  by  a  near 
and  dear  relative  of  mine,  Mr.  John  O'Connell,  the 
member  for  Kilkenny.  I  am  proud  that  a  son  of 
mine  will  be  able,  when  the  repeal  is  carried,  to  meet 
any  of  England's  financiers,  and  to  prove  to  them 
the  gross  injustice  inflicted  upon  Ireland. 

My  next  impeachment  of  the  Union  is  its  de- 
structive and  deleterious  effect  upon  the  industry 
and  prosperity  of  the  country.  The  county  of 
Meath  was  once  studded  with  noble  residences. 
What  is  it  now  ?  Even  on  the  spot  where  what  is 
called  the  great  Duke  of  Wellington  was  born,  in- 
stead of  a  splendid  castle  or  noble  residence,  the 
briar  and  the  bramble  attest  the  treachery  that  pro- 
duced them.  You  remember  the  once  prosperous 
linen -weavers  of  Meath.  There  is  scarcely  a  penny 
paid  to  them  now.  In  short,  the  Union  struck  down 
the  manufacturers  of  Ireland.  The  Commissioners 


210  PRACTICAL  PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

of  the  Poor  Law  prove  that  120,000  persons  in  Ire- 
land are  in  a  state  of  destitution  during1  the  greater 
part  of  each  year.  How  is  it  that  in  one  of  the 
most  fertile  countries  in  the  world  this  should  oc- 
cur ?  The  Irish  never  broke  any  of  their  bargains 
nor  their  treaties,  and  England  never  kept  one  that 
was  made  on  her  part.  There  is  now  a  union  of  the 
legislatures,  but  I  deny  that  there  is  a  union  of  the 
nations,  and  I  again  proclaim  the  Act  a  nullity. 
England  has  given  to  her  people  a  municipal  reform 
extensive  and  satisfactory,  while  to  Ireland  she 
gives  a  municipal  reform  crippled  and  worthless. 
But  the  Union  is  more  a  nullity  on  ecclesiastical 
grounds  ;  for  why  should  the  great  majority  of  the 
people  of  Ireland  pay  for  the  support  of  a  religion 
which  they  do  not  believe  to  be  true  ?  The  Union 
was  carried  by  the  most  abominable  corruption  and 
bribery,  by  financial  robbery  on  an  extensive  scale, 
which  makes  it  the  more  heinous  and  oppressive ; 
and  the  result  is  that  Ireland  is  saddled  with  an  un- 
just debt,  her  commerce  is  taken  from  her,  her  trade 
is  destroyed,  and  a  large  number  of  her  people  thus 
reduced  to  misery  and  distress. 

Yes,  the  people  of  Ireland  are  cruelly  oppressed, 
and  are  we  tamely  to  stand  by  and  allow  our  dearest 
interests  to  be  trampled  upon  ?  Are  we  not  to  ask 
for  redress  ?  Yes,  we  will  ask  for  that  which  alone 
will  give  us  redress — a  parliament  of  our  own.  And 
you  will  have  it  too,  if  you  are  quiet  and  orderly, 
and  join  with  me  in  my  present  struggle.  [Loud 
cheers}  Your  cheers  will  be  conveyed  to  England. 
Yes,  the  majority  of  this  mighty  multitude  will  be 
taken  there.  Old  Wellington  began  by  threatening 
us,  and  talked  of  civil  war,  but  he  says  nothing 
about  it  now.  He  is  getting  inlet  holes  made  in 


DANIEL   O'CONNELL  211 

stone  barracks.  Now  only  think  of  an  old  general 
doing  such  a  thing,  as  if,  were  there  anything  going 
on,  the  people  would  attack  stone  walls !  I  have 
heard  that  a  great  deal  of  brandy  and  biscuits  have 
been  sent  to  the  barracks,  and  I  sincerely  hope  the 
poor  soldiers  will  get  some  of  them.  Your  honest 
brothers,  the  soldiers,  who  have  been  sent  to  Ire- 
land, are  as  orderly  and  as  brave  men  as  any  in 
Ireland.  I  am  sure  that  not  one  of  you  has  a  single 
complaint  to  make  against  them.  If  any  of  you 
have,  say  so.  [Loud  cries  of  "  No,  no  !  "]  They  are 
the  bravest  men  in  the  world,  and  therefore  I  do  not 
disparage  them  at  all  when  I  state  this  fact,  that  if 
they  are  sent  to  make  war  against  the  people,  I 
have  enough  women  to  beat  them.  There  is  no 
mockery  or  delusion  in  what  I  say.  At  the  last 
fight  for  Ireland,  when  we  were  betrayed  by  a  re- 
liance on  English  honor,  in  which  we  would  never 
again  confide — for  I  would  as  soon  confide  in  the 
honor  of  a  certain  black  gentleman  who  has  two 
horns  and  hoofs — but,  as  I  was  saying,  at  the  last 
battle  for  Ireland,  when,  after  two  days'  hard  fight- 
ing, the  Irish  were  driven  back  by  the  fresh  troops 
brought  up  by  the  English  to  the  bridge  of  Lim- 
erick, at  that  point  when  the  Irish  soldiers  retired 
fainting,  it  was  that  the  women  of  Limerick  threw 
themselves  in  the  way,  and  drove  the  enemy  back 
fifteen,  twenty,  or  thirty  paces.  Several  of  the 
poor  women  were  killed  in  the  struggle,  and  their 
shrieks  of  agony  being  heard  by  their  countrymen, 
they  again  rallied  and  determined  to  die  in  their 
defence,  and,  doubly  valiant  in  the  defence  of  the 
women,  they  together  routed  the  Saxons.  Yes,  I 
repeat,  I  have  enough  women  to  beat  all  the  army 
of  Ireland.  It  is  idle  for  any  minister  or  statesman 


212  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

to  suppose  for  a  moment  that  he  can  put  down  such 
a  struggle  as  this  for  liberty.  The  only  thing  I 
fear  is  the  conduct  of  some  ruffians  who  are  called 
Bibbonmen.  I  know  there  are  such  blackguards, 
for  I  have  traced  them  from  Manchester.  They  are 
most  dangerous  characters,  and  it  will  be  the  duty 
of  every  Bepealer,  whether  he  knows  or  by  any 
means  can  discover  one  of  them,  immediately  to  hand 
him  over  to  justice  and  the  law.  The  Bibbonmen 
only,  by  their  proceedings,  can  injure  the  great  and 
religious  cause  in  which  I  am  now  engaged,  and  in 
which  I  have  the  people  of  Ireland  at  my  back. 

This  is  a  holy  festival  in  the  Catholic  Church — 
the  day  upon  which  the  Mother  of  our  Saviour  as- 
cended to  meet  her  Son,  and  reign  with  Him  for 
ever.  On  such  a  day  I  will  not  tell  a  falsehood.  I 
hope  I  am  under  her  protection  while  addressing 
you,  and  I  hope  that  Ireland  will  receive  the  benefit 
of  her  prayers.  Our  Church  has  prayed  against  Es- 
partero  and  his  priest-terrorizing,  church-plunder- 
ing marauders,  and  he  has  since  fallen  from  power 
— nobody  knows  how,  for  he  makes  no  effort  to  re- 
tain it.  He  seems  to  have  been  bewildered  by  the 
Divine  curse,  for  without  one  rational  effort  the 
tyrant  of  Spain  has  faded  before  the  prayers  of 
Christianity.  I  hope  that  there  is  a  blessing  in  this 
day,  and,  fully  aware  of  its  solemnity,  I  assure  you 
that  I  am  afraid  of  nothing  but  Bibbonism,  which 
alone  can  disturb  the  present  movement.  I  have 
proclaimed  from  this  spot  that  the  Act  of  Union  is 
a  nullity ;  but  in  seeking  for  Bepeal  I  do  not  want 
you  to  disobey  the  law.  I  have  only  to  refer  to  the 
words  of  the  Tories'  friend,  Saurin,  to  prove  that  the 
Union  is  illegal.  I  advise  you  to  obey  the  law  until 
you  have  the  word  of  your  beloved  Queen  to  tell 


DANIEL  O'CONNELL  213 

you  that  you  shall  have  a  Parliament  of  your  own. 
[Cheers,  and  loud  cries  of  "  So  we  will !  "]  The  Queen 
— God  bless  her ! — will  yet  tell  you  that  you  shall 
have  a  legislature  of  your  own — three  cheers  for  the 
Queen !  [Immense  cheering^ 

On  the  2d  of  January  last  I  called  this  Eepeal 
year,  and  I  was  laughed  at  for  doing  so.  Are  they 
laughing  now  ?  No  :  it  is  now  my  turn  to  laugh  ; 
and  I  will  now  say  that  in  twelve  months  more  we 
shall  have  our  Parliament  again  on  College  Green. 
The  Queen  has  the  undoubted  prerogative  at  any 
time  to  order  her  Ministers  to  issue  writs,  which, 
being  signed  by  the  Lord  Chancellor,  the  Irish  Par- 
liament would  at  once  be  convened  without  the  ne- 
cessity of  applying  to  the  English  Legislature  to 
repeal  what  they  appear  to  consider  a  valid  Act  of 
Union.  And  if  dirty  Sugden  would  not  sign  the  writ, 
an  Irish  Chancellor  would  soon  be  found  who  would 
do  so.  And  if  we  have  our  Parliament  again  in 
Dublin,  is  there,  I  would  ask,  a  coward  amongst  you 
who  would  not  rather  die  than  allow  it  to  be  taken 
away  by  an  Act  of  Union  ?  [Loud  cries  of  "  No  one 
ivould  ever  submit  to  it  !  "  "  We'd  rather  die  !  "  etc.] 
To  the  last  man.  [Cries  of  "  To  the  last  man  !  "]  Let 
every  man  who  would  not  allow  the  Act  of  Union  to 
pass  hold  up  his  hand.  [An  immense  forest  of  hands 
was  shown.]  When  the  Irish  Parliament  is  again 
assembled,  I  will  defy  any  power  on  earth  to  take  it 
from  us  again.  Are  you  all  ready  to  obey  me  in  the 
course  of  conduct  which  I  have  pointed  out  to  you  ? 
[Cries  of"  Yes,  yes  !  "]  When  I  dismiss  you  to-day, 
will  you  not  disperse  and  go  peaceably  to  your 
homes — ["  Yes,  yes,  we  will  !  "] — every  man,  woman, 
and  child  ? — in  the  same  tranquil  manner  as  you 
have  assembled  ?  ["  Yes,  yes  !  "]  But  if  I  want  you 


214  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

again  to-morrow,  will  you  not  come  to  Tara  Hill  ? 
["  Yes,  yes  !  "]  Remember,  I  will  lead  you  into  no 
peril.  If  danger  should  arise,  it  will  be  in  conse- 
quence of  some  persons  attacking  us,  for  we  are  de- 
termined not  to  attack  any  person ;  and  if  danger 
does  exist  you  will  not  find  me  in  the  rear  rank. 
When  we  get  our  Parliament,  all  our  grievances  will 
be  put  to  an  end ;  our  trade  will  be  restored,  the 
landlord  will  be  placed  on  a  firm  footing,  and  the 
tenants  who  are  now  so  sadly  oppressed  will  be 
placed  in  their  proper  position.  "  Law,  Peace,  and 
Order "  is  the  motto  of  the  Repeal  banner,  and  I 
trust  you  will  all  rally  round  it.  [Cries  of"  We  are 
all  Repealers  !  "]  I  have  to  inform  you  that  all  the 
magistrates  who  have  recently  been  deprived  of  the 
Commission  of  the  Peace  have  been  appointed  by 
the  Eepeal  Association  to  settle  any  disputes  which 
may  arise  among  the  Repealers  in  their  respective 
localities.  On  next  Monday  persons  will  be  ap- 
pointed to  settle  disputes  without  expense,  and  I 
call  on  every  man  who  is  the  friend  of  Ireland  to 
have  his  disputes  settled  by  arbitrators  without  ex- 
pense, and 'to  avoid  going  to  the  Petty  Sessions. 

I  believe  I  am  now  in  a  position  to  announce  to 
you  that  in  twelve  months  more  we  shall  not  be  with- 
out having  an  Hurrah !  for  the  Parliament  on  Col- 
lege Green !  [Immense  cheering.}  Your  shouts  are 
almost  enough  to  call  to  life  those  who  rest  in  the 
grave.  I  can  almost  fancy  the  spirits  of  the  mighty 
dead  hovering  over  you,  and  the  ancient  kings  and 
chiefs  of  Ireland,  from  the  clouds,  listening  to  the 
shouts  sent  up  from  Tara  for  Irish  liberty.  Oh! 
Ireland  is  a  lovely  land,  blessed  with  the  bounteous 
gifts  of  Nature,  and  where  is  the  coward  who  would 
not  die  for  her  ?  [Cries  of  "  Not  one  !  "]  Your  cheers 


215 

will  penetrate  to  the  extremity  of  civilization.  Our 
movement  is  the  admiration  of  the  world,  for  no 
other  country  can  show  so  much  force  with  so  much 
propriety  of  conduct.  No  other  country  can  show  a 
people  assembled  for  the  highest  national  purposes 
that  can  actuate  man  ;  can  show  hundreds  of  thou- 
sands able  in  strength  to  carry  any  battle  that  ever 
was  fought,  and  yet  separating  with  the  tranquillity 
of  schoolboys.  You  have  stood  by  me  long — stand 
by  me  a  little  longer,  and  Ireland  will  be  again  a 
nation. 


DEFENCE  OF  THE  KENNISTONS 
DANIEL  WEBSTEK 

Supreme  Court  of  Massachusetts,  Ipswich,  April,  1817 

['*  The  following  are  the  facts  relating  to  the  case  : 
"  Major  Goodridge  of  Bangor,  Maine,  professed  to  have  been 
robbed  of  a  large  sum  of  money  at  nine  o'clock  on  the  night  of 
December  19,  1816,  while  travelling  on  horseback,  near  the  bridge 
between  Exeter  and  New  bury  port.  In  the  encounter  with  the 
robbers  he  received  a  pistol  wound  in  his  left  hand ;  he  was  then 
dragged  from  his  horse  into  a  field,  beaten  until  insensible,  and 
robbed.  On  recovering,  he  procured  the  assistance  of  several  per- 
sons, and  with  a  lantern  returned  to  the  place  of  the  robbery 
and  found  his  watch  and  some  papers.  The  next  day  he  went  to 
Newburyport,  and  remained  ill  for  several  weeks,  suffering  from 
delirium  caused  by  the  shock.  When  he  recovered  he  set  about 
the  discovery  of  the  robbers.  His  story  seemed  so  probable  that 
he  had  the  sympathy  of  all  the  country-folk.  He  at  once  charged 
with  the  crime  Levi  and  Laban  Kenniston,  two  poor  men,  who 
lived  in  an  obscure  part  of  the  town  of  Newmarket,  New  Hamp- 
shire, and  finding  some  of  his  money  (which  he  had  previously 
marked)  in  their  cellar,  he  had  them  arrested,  and  held  for  trial. 
By  and  by  a  few  of  the  people  began  to  doubt  the  story  of  Good- 
ridge  ;  this  led  him  to  renewed  efforts,  and  he  arrested  the  toll 
gatherer,  Mr.  Pearson,  in  whose  house,  by  the  aid  of  a  conjuror, 
he  found  some  of  his  money.  On  examination  by  the  magistrate, 
Pearson  was  discharged. 

"  It  now  became  necessary  to  find  some  accomplice  of  the  Ken- 
nistons,  and  he  arrested  one  Taber  of  Boston,  whom  he  had  seen 
(he  said)  on  his  way  up,  and  from  whom  he  had  obtained  his  in- 
formation against  the  Kennistons.  In  Taber's  house  was  found 
some  of  the  money ;  he  was  accordingly  bound  over  for  trial  with 
the  Kennistons.  As  none  of  these  men  lived  near  the  scene  of  the 

216 


DANIEL   WEBSTER  217 

robbery,  Mr.  Jackman,  who,  soon  after  the  robbery,  had  gone  to 
New  York,  was  arrested,  his  house  searched,  and  some  of  the 
money  found  in  the  garret.  The  guilt  of  these  men  seemed  so  con- 
clusive that  no  eminent  member  of  the  Essex  bar  would  undertake 
their  defence.  A  few  of  those  who  mistrusted  Goodridge  deter- 
mined to  send  to  Suffolk  County  for  counsel. 

"  Mr.  Webster  had  been  well  known  in  New  Hampshire,  and  his 
services  were  at  once  secured  ;  without  having  time  to  examine 
any  of  the  details  of  the  case — as  he  had  arrived  at  Ipswich  on  the 
night  before  the  trial— he  at  once  undertook  the  defence  of  the 
Kennistons  and  secured  their  acquittal.  The  indictment  against 
Taber  was  nol  prossed.  Later,  he  defended  Jackman  and  secured 
his  acquittal.  Mr.  Pearson  brought  action  against  Goodrich  for 
malicious  prosecution,  and  was  awarded  $2,000,  but  Goodridge  took 
the  poor  debtor's  oath  and  left  the  State."—  Webster's  Select  Speeches, 
A.  J.  George,  Heath  &  Co.] 

GENTLEMEN  OF  THE  JURY — It  is  true  that  the  offence 
charged  in  the  indictment  in  this  case  is  not  capital ; 
but  perhaps  this  can  hardly  be  considered  as  favor- 
able to  the  defendants.  To  those  who  are  guilty, 
and  without  hope  of  escape,  no  doubt  the  lightness 
of  the  penalty  of  transgression  gives  consolation. 
But  if  the  defendants  are  innocent,  it  is  more  natural 
for  them  to  be  thinking  upon  what  they  have  lost 
by  that  alteration  of  the  law  which  has  left  high- 
way robbery  no  longer  capital,  than  upon  what  the 
guilty  might  gain  by  it.  They  have  lost  those 
great  privileges  in  their  trial,  which  the  law  allows 
in  capital  cases,  for  the  protection  of  innocence 
against  unfounded  accusation.  They  have  lost  the 
right  of  being  previously  furnished  with  a  copy  of 
the  indictment,  and  a  list  of  the  government  wit- 
nesses. They  have  lost  the  right  of  peremptory 
challenge ;  and,  notwithstanding  the  prejudices 
which  they  know  have  been  excited  against  them, 
they  must  show  legal  cause  of  challenge,  in  each 


218  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

individual  case,  or  else  take  the  jury  as  they  find 
it.  They  have  lost  the  benefit  of  assignment  of 
counsel  by  the  court.  They  have  lost  the  benefit  of 
the  Commonwealth's  process  to  bring  in  witnesses 
in  their  behalf.  When  to  these  circumstances  it  is 
added  that  they  are  strangers,  almost  wholly  with- 
out friends,  and  without  the  means  for  preparing 
their  defence,  it  is  evident  they  must  take  their  trial 
under  great  disadvantages. 

But  without  dwelling  on  these  considerations,  I 
proceed,  Gentlemen  of  the  Jury,  to  ask  your  atten- 
tion to  those  circumstances  which  cannot  but  cast 
doubts  on  the  story  of  the  prosecutor. 

In  the  first  place,  it  is  impossible  to  believe  that 
a  robbery  of  this  sort  could  have  been  committed  by 
three  or  four  men  without  previous  arrangement 
and  concert,  and  of  course  without  the  knowledge 
of  the  fact  that  Goodridge  would  be  there,  and  that 
he  had  money.  They  did  not  go  on  the  highway, 
in  such  a  place,  in  a  cold  December's  night,  for  the 
general  purpose  of  attacking  the  first  passenger, 
running  the  chance  of  his  being  somebody  who  had 
money.  It  is  not  easy  to  believe  that  a  gang  of 
robbers  existed,  that  they  acted  systematically,  com- 
municating intelligence  to  one  another,  and  meet- 
ing and  dispersing  as  occasion  required,  and  that 
this  gang  had  their  head-quarters  in  such  a  place  as 
Newburyport.  No  town  is  more  distinguished  for 
the  general  correctness  of  the  habits  of  its  citizens ; 
and  it  is  of  such  a  size  that  every  man  in  it  may  be 
known  to  all  the  rest.  The  pursuits,  occupations, 
and  habits  of  every  person  within  it  are  within  the 
observation  of  his  neighbors.  A  suspicious  stranger 
would  be  instantly  observed,  and  all  his  movements 
could  be  easily  traced.  This  is  not  the  place  to  be 


DANIEL   WEBSTER  219 

the  general  rendezvous  of  a  gang1  of  robbers.  Of- 
fenders of  this  sort  hang  on  the  skirts  of  large 
towns.  From  the  commission  of  their  crimes  they 
hasten  into  the  crowd,  and  hide  themselves  in  the 
populousness  of  great  cities. 

If  it  be  wholly  improbable  that  a  gang  existed  in 
such  a  place  for  the  purpose  of  general  plunder,  the 
next  inquiry  is,  is  there  any  reason  to  think  that 
there  was  a  special  or  particular  combination,  for  the 
single  purpose  of  robbing  the  prosecutor  ?  Now  it 
is  material  to  observe,  that  not  only  is  there  no  evi- 
dence of  any  such  combination,  but  also,  that  cir- 
cumstances existed  which  render  it  next  to  impossi- 
ble that  the  defendants  could  have  been  parties  to 
such  a  combination,  or  even  that  they  could  have  any 
knowledge  of  the  existence  of  any  such  man  as  Good- 
ridge,  or  that  any  person,  with  money,  was  expected 
to  come  from  the  eastward,  and  to  be  near  Essex 
Bridge,  at  or  about  nine  o'clock,  the  evening  when 
the  robbery  is  said  to  have  been  committed. 

One  of  the  defendants  had  been  for  some  weeks  in 
Newburyport,  the  other  passed  the  bridge  from  New 
Hampshire  at  twelve  o'clock  on  the  19th  of  Decem- 
ber, 1816.  At  this  time  Goodridge  had  not  yet 
arrived  at  Exeter,  twelve  or  fourteen  miles  from  the 
bridge.  How,  then,  could  either  of  the  defendants 
know  that  he  was  coming  ?  Besides,  he  says  that  no- 
body on  the  road,  so  far  as  he  is  aware,  knew  that  he 
had  money,  and  nothing  happened  till  he  reached 
Exeter,  according  to  his  account,  from  which  it  might 
be  conjectured  that  such  was  the  case.  Here,  as  he 
relates  it,  it  became  known  that  he  had  pistols  ;  and 
he  must  wish  you  to  infer  that  the  plan  to  rob  him 
was  laid  here,  at  Exeter,  by  some  of  the  persons  who 
inferred  that  he  had  money  from  his  being  armed. 


220  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

Who  were  these  persons  ?  Certainly  not  the  defend- 
ants,  or  either  of  them.  Certainly  not  Taber.  Cer- 
tainly not  Jackman.  Were  they  persons  of  suspicious 
characters  ?  Was  he  in  a  house  of  a  suspicious  char- 
acter ?  On  this  .point  he  gives  us  no  information. 
He  has  either  not  taken  the  pains  to  inquire,  or  he 
chooses  not  to  communicate  the  result  of  his  in- 
quiries. Yet  nothing  could  be  more  important,  since 
he  seems  compelled  to  lay  the  scene  of  the  plot 
against  him  at  Exeter,  than  to  know  who  the  persons 
were  that  he  saw,  or  who  saw  him,  at  that  place. 
On  the  face  of  the  facts  now  proved,  nothing  could 
be  more  improbable  than  that  the  plan  of  robbery 
was  concerted  at  Exeter.  If  so,  why  should  those 
who  concerted  it  send  forward  to  Newburyport  to 
engage  the  defendants,  especially  as  they  did  not 
know  that  they  were  there  ?  What  should  induce  any 
persons  so  suddenly  to  apply  to  the  defendants  to 
assist  in  a  robbery  ?  There  was  nothing  in  their  per- 
sonal character  or  previous  history  that  should  in- 
duce this. 

Nor  was  there  time  for  all  this.  If  the  prosecutor 
had  not  lingered  on  the  road,  for  reasons  not  yet 
discovered,  he  must  have  been  in  Newburyport  long 
before  the  time  at  which  he  states  the  robbery  to  have 
been  committed.  How,  then,  could  any  one  expect 
to  leave  Exeter,  come  to  Newburyport,  fifteen  miles, 
there  look  out  for  and  find  out  assistants  for  a  high- 
way robbery,  and  get  back  two  miles  to  a  conven- 
ient place  for  the  commission  of  the  crime  ?  That 
any  body  should  have  undertaken  to  act  thus  is 
wholly  improbable  ;  and,  in  point  of  fact,  there  is  not 
the  least  proof  of  any  body's  travelling,  that  after- 
noon, from  Exeter  to  Newburyport,  or  of  any  person 
who  was  at  the  tavern  at  Exeter  having  left  it 


DANIEL   WEBSTER  221 

that  afternoon.  In  all  probability,  nothing  of  this 
sort  could  have  taken  place  without  being  capable 
of  detection  and  proof.  In  every  particular,  the 
prosecutor  has  wholly  failed  to  show  the  least  prob- 
ability of  a  plan  to  rob  him  having  been  laid  at 
Exeter. 

But  how  comes  it  that  Goodridge  was  nearly  or 
quite  four  hours  and  a  half  in  travelling  a  distance 
which  might  have  been  travelled  in  two  hours  or  two 
hours  and  a  half.  He  says  he  missed  his  way,  and 
went  the  Salisbury  road.  But  some  of  the  jury  know 
that  this  could  not  have  delayed  him  more  than  five  or 
ten  minutes.  He  ought  to  be  able  to  give  some  better 
account  of  this  delay. 

Failing,  as  he  seems  to  do,  to  create  any  belief 
that  a  plan  to  rob  him  was  arranged  at  Exeter,  the 
prosecutor  goes  back  to  Alfred,  and  says  he  saw 
there  a  man  whom  Taber  resembles.  But  Taber  is 
proved  to  have  been  at  that  time,  and  at  the  time  of 
the  robbery,  in  Boston.  This  is  proved  beyond 
question.  It  is  so  certain,  that  the  Solicitor-Gen- 
eral has  not  pressed  the  indictment  against  him. 

There  is  an  end,  then,  of  all  pretence  of  the  adop- 
tion of  a  scheme  of  robbery  at  Alfred.  This  leaves 
the  prosecutor  altogether  unable  to  point  out  any 
manner  in  which  it  should  become  known  that  he 
had  money,  or  in  which  a  design  to  rob  him  should 
originate. 

It  is  next  to  be  considered  whether  the  prosecu- 
tor's story  is  either  natural  or  consistent.  But,  on 
the  threshold  of  the  inquiry,  every  one  puts  the 
question,  What  motive  had  the  prosecutor  to  be 
guilty  of  that  abominable  conduct  of  feigning  a  rob- 
bery. It  is  difficult  to  assign  motives.  The  jury  do 
not  know  enough  of  his  character  or  circumstances. 


222  PRACTICAL  PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

Such  things  have  happened,  and  may  happen  again. 
Suppose  he  owed  money  in  Boston,  and  had  it  not 
to  pay  ?  Who  knows  how  high  he  might  estimate 
the  value  of  a  plausible  apology  ?  Some  men  have 
also  a  whimsical  ambition  for  distinction.  There  is 
no  end  to  the  variety  of  modes  in  which  human 
vanity  exhibits  itself.  A  story  of  this  nature  excites 
the  public  sympathy.  It  attracts  general  attention. 
It  causes  the  name  of  the  prosecutor  to  be  celebrated 
as  a  man  who  has  been  attacked,  and,  after  a  manly 
resistance,  overcome  by  robbers ;  and  who  has  re- 
newed his  resistance  as  soon  as  returning  life  and 
sensation  enabled  him,  and,  after  a  second  conflict, 
has  been  quite  subdued,  beaten  and  bruised  out  of 
all  sense  and  sensation,  and  finally  left  for  dead  on 
the  field.  It  is  not  easy  to  say  how  far  such  motives, 
trifling  and  ridiculous  as  most  men  would  think 
them,  might  influence  the  prosecutor,  when  con- 
nected with  any  expectation  of  favor  or  indulgence, 
if  he  wanted  such,  from  his  creditors.  It  is  to  be 
remembered  that  he  probably  did  not  see  all  the 
consequences  of  his  conduct,  if  his  robbery  be  a 
pretence.  He  might  not  intend  to  prosecute  any 
body.  But  he  probably  found,  and  indeed  there  is 
evidence  to  show,  that  it  was  necessary  for  him  to 
do  something  to  find  out  the  authors  of  the  alleged 
robbery.  He  manifested  no  particular  zeal  on 
this  subject.  He  was  in  no  haste.  He  appears 
rather  to  have  been  pressed  by  others  to  do  that 
which,  if  he  had  really  been  robbed,  we  should  sup- 
pose he  would  have  been  most  earnest  to  do,  the 
earliest  moment. 

But  could  he  so  seriously  wound  himself  ?  Could 
he  or  would  he  shoot  a  pistol-bullet  through  his 
hand,  in  order  to  render  the  robbery  probable,  and 


DANIEL   WEBSTER  323 

to  obtain  belief  in  his  story  ?  All  exhibitions  are 
subject  to  accidents  ?  Whether  they  are  serious  or 
farcical,  they  may,  in  some  particulars,  not  proceed 
exactly  as  they  are  designed  to  do.  If  we  knew  that 
this  shot  through  the  hand,  if  made  by  himself, 
must  have  been  intentionally  made  by  himself,  it 
would  be  a  circumstance  of  greater  weight.  The 
bullet  went  through  the  sleeve  of  his  coat.  He 
might  have  intended  it  should  go  through  nothing 
else.  It  is  quite  certain  he  did  not  receive  the 
wound  in  the  way  he  described.  He  says  he  was 
pulling  or  thrusting  aside  the  robber's  pistol,  and 
while  his  hand  was  on  it,  it  was  fired,  and  the  con- 
tents passed  through  his  hand.  This  could  not 
have  been  so,  because  no  part  of  the  contents  went 
through  the  hand,  except  the  ball.  There  was 
powder  on  the  sleeve  of  his  coat,  and  from  the  ap- 
pearance one  would  think  the  pistol  to  have  been 
three  or  four  feet  from  the  hand  when  fired.  The 
fact  of  the  pistol-bullet  being  fired  through  the 
hand,  is  doubtless  a  circumstance  of  importance. 
It  may  not  be  easy  to  account  for  it ;  but  it  is  to  be 
weighed  with  other  circumstances. 

It  is  most  extraordinary,  that,  in  the  whole  case, 
the  prosecutor  should  prove  hardly  any  fact  in  any 
way  but  by  his  own  oath.  He  chooses  to  trust  every 
thing  on  his  own  credit  with  the  jury.  Had  he  the 
money  with  him  which  he  mentions?  If  so,  his 
clerks  or  persons  connected  with  him  in  business 
must  have  known  it ;  yet  no  witness  is  produced. 
Nothing  can  be  more  important  than  to  prove  that 
he  had  the  money.  Yet  he  does  not  prove  it.  Why 
should  he  leave  this  essential  fact  without  further 
support  ?  He  is  not  surprised  with  this  defence,  he 
knew  what  it  would  be.  He  knew  that  nothing  could 


224  PRACTICAL  PUBLIC  SPEAKING 

be  more  important  than  to  prove  that,  in  truth,  he 
did  possess  the  money  which  he  says  he  lost ;  yet 
he  does  not  prove  it.  All  that  he  saw,  and  all  that 
he  did,  and  everything  that  occurred  to  him  until 
the  alleged  robbery,  rests  solely  on  his  own  credit. 
He  does  not  see  fit  to  corroborate  any  fact  by  the 
testimony  of  any  witness.  So  he  went  to  New  York 
to  arrest  Jackman.  He  did  arrest  him.  He  swears 
positively  that  he  found  in  his  possession  papers 
which  he  lost  at  the  time  of  the  robbery ;  yet  he 
neither  produces  the  papers  themselves,  nor  the  per- 
sons who  assisted  him  in  the  search. 

In  like  manner,  he  represents  his  intercourse  with 
Taber  at  Boston.  Taber,  he  says,  made  certain  con- 
fessions. They  made  a  bargain  for  a  disclosure  or 
confession  on  one  side,  and  a  reward  on  the  other. 
But  no  one  heard  these  confessions  except  Goodridge 
himself.  Taber  now  confronts  him,  and  pronounces 
this  part  of  his  story  to  be  wholly  false  ;  and  there 
is  nobody  who  can  support  the  prosecutor. 

A  jury  cannot  too  seriously  reflect  on  this  part  of 
the  case.  There  are  many  most  important  allega- 
tions of  fact,  which,  if  true,  could  easily  be  shown 
by  other  witnesses,  and  yet  are  not  so  shown. 

How  came  Mr.  Goodridge  to  set  out  from  Bangor, 
armed  in  this  formal  and  formidable  manner  ?  How 
came  he  to  be  so  apprehensive  of  robbery?  The 
reason  he  gives  is  completely  ridiculous.  As  the 
foundation  of  his  alarm,  he  tells  a  story  of  a  robbery 
which  he  had  heard  of,  but  which,  as  far  as  appears, 
no  one  else  ever  heard  of ;  and  the  story  itself  is  so 
perfectly  absurd,  it  is  difficult  to  resist  the  belief 
that  it  was  the  product  of  his  imagination  at  the  mo- 
ment. He  seems  to  have  been  a  little  too  confident 
that  an  attempt  would  be  made  to  rob  him.  The 


DANIEL   WEBSTER  225 

manner  in  which  he  carried  his  money,  as  he  says, 
indicated  a  strong  expectation  of  this  sort.  His  gold 
he  wrapped  in  a  cambric  cloth,  put  it  into  a  shot 
bag,  and  then  into  a  portmanteau.  One  parcel  of 
bills,  of  a  hundred  dollars  in  amount,  he  put  into  his 
pocket-book ;  another,  of  somewhat  more  than  a 
thousand  dollars,  he  carried  next  his  person,  under- 
neath all  his  clothes.  Having  disposed  of  his  money 
in  this  way,  and  armed  himself  with  two  good  pis- 
tols, he  set  out  from  Bangor.  The  jury  will  judge 
whether  this  extraordinary  care  of  his  money,  and 
of  this  formal  arming  of  himself  to  defend  it,  are  not 
circumstances  of  a  very  suspicious  character. 

He  stated  that  he  did  not  travel  in  the  night ;  that 
he  would  not  so  much  expose  himself  to  robbers. 
He  said  that,  when  he  came  near  Alfred,  he  did  not 
go  into  the  village,  but  stopped  a  few  miles  short, 
because  night  was  coming  on,  and  he  would  not 
trust  himself  and  his  money  out  at  night.  He  rep- 
resents himself  to  have  observed  this  rule  constantly 
and  invariably  until  he  got  to  Exeter.  Yet,  when 
the  time  came  for  the  robbery,  he  was  found  out  at 
night.  He  left  Exeter  about  sunset,  intending  to 
go  to  Newburyport,  fifteen  miles  distant,  that  even- 
ing. When  he  is  asked  how  this  should  happen,  he 
says  that  he  had  no  fear  of  robbers  after  he  left 
the  District  of  Maine.  He  thought  himself  quite 
safe  when  he  arrived  at  Exeter.  Yet  he  told  the 
jury  that  at  Exeter  he  thought  it  necessary  to  load 
his  pistols  afresh.  He  asked  for  a  private  room  at 
the  inn.  He  told  the  persons  in  attendance  that  he 
wished  such  a  room  for  the  purpose  of  changing 
his  clothes.  He  charged  them  not  to  suffer  him  to 
be  interrupted.  But  he  now  testifies  that  his  ob- 
ject was  not  to  change  his  dress,  but  to  put  new 


226  PRACTICAL  PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

loading  into  his  pistols.  What  sort  of  a  story  is 
this? 

He  says  he  now  felt  himself  out  of  all  danger 
from  robbers,  and  was  therefore  willing  to  travel  at 
night.  At  the  same  time  he  thought  himself  in 
very  great  danger  from  robbers,  and  therefore  took 
the  utmost  pains  to  keep  his  pistols  well  loaded 
and  in  good  order.  To  account  for  the  pains  he 
took  about  loading  his  pistols  at  Exeter,  he  says  it 
was  his  invariable  practice,  every  day  after  he  left 
Bangor,  to  discharge  and  load  again  one  or  both  of 
his  pistols ;  that  he  never  missed  doing  this  ;  that 
he  avoided  doing  it  at  the  inns,  lest  he  should  create 
suspicion,  but  that  he  did  it,  while  alone,  on  the  road 
every  day. 

How  far  this  is  probable  the  jury  will  judge.  It 
will  be  observed  that  he  gave  up  his  habits  of  cau- 
tion as  he  approached  the  place  of  the  robbery.  He 
then  loaded  his  pistols  at  the  tavern,  where  persons 
might  and  did  see  him  ;  and  he  then  also  travelled 
in  the  night.  He  passed  the  bridge  over  Merri- 
mac  River  a  few  minutes  before  nine  o'clock.  He 
was  now  at  a  part  of  his  progress  where  he  was 
within  the  observation  of  other  witnesses,  and  some- 
thing could  be  known  of  him  besides  what  he  told 
of  himself.  Immediately  after  him,  passed  the  two 
persons,  Shaw  and  Keyser,  with  their  wagons.  Close 
upon  them  followed  the  mail-coach.  Now,  these 
wagons  and  the  mail  must  have  passed  within  three 
rods,  at  most,  of  Goodridge,  at  the  very  time  of  the 
robbery.  They  must  have  been  very  near  the  spot, 
the  very  moment  of  the  attack  ;  and  if  he  was  under 
the  robbers'  hands  as  long  as  he  represents,  or  if 
they  stayed  on  the  spot  long  enough  to  do  half 
what  he  says  they  did,  they  must  have  been  there 


DANIEL   WEBSTER  227 

when  the  wagons  and  the  stage  passed.  At  any  rate, 
it  is  next  to  impossible,  by  any  computation  of 
time,  to  put  these  carriages  so  far  from  the  spot, 
that  the  drivers  should  not  have  heard  the  cry  of 
murder,  which  he  says  he  raised,  or  the  report  of 
the  two  pistols,  which  he  says  were  discharged.  In 
three-quarters  of  an  hour,  or  an  hour,  he  returned, 
and  repassed  the  bridge. 

The  jury  will  next  naturally  look  to  the  appear- 
ances exhibited  on  the  field  after  the  robbery.  The 
portmanteau  was  there.  The  witnesses  say  that  the 
straps  which  fastened  it  to  the  saddle  had  been 
neither  cut  nor  broken.  They  were  carefully  un- 
buckled. This  was  very  considerate  for  robbers.  It 
had  been  opened,  and  its  contents  were  scattered 
about  the  field.  The  pocket-book,  too,  had  been 
opened,  and  many  papers  it  contained  found  on  the 
ground.  Nothing  valuable  was  lost  but  money. 
The  robbers  did  not  think  it  well  to  go  off  at  once 
with  the  portmanteau  and  the  pocket-book.  The 
place  was  so  secure,  so  remote,  so  unfrequented  ; 
they  were  so  far  from  the  highway,  at  least  one  full 
rod ;  there  were  so  few  persons  passing,  probably 
not  more  than  four  or  five  then  in  the  road,  within 
hearing  of  the  pistols  and  the  cries  of  Goodridge  ; 
there  being,  too,  not  above  five  or  six  dwelling- 
houses,  full  of  people,  within  the  hearing  of  the  re- 
port of  a  pistol;  these  circumstances  were  all  so 
favorable  to  their  safety,  that  the  robbers  sat  down 
to  look  over  the  prosecutor's  papers,  carefully  exam- 
ined the  contents  of  his  pocket-book  and  portman- 
teau, and  took  only  the  things  which  they  needed ! 
There  was  money  belonging  to  other  persons.  The 
robbers  did  not  take  it.  They  found  out  it  was  not 
the  prosecutor's,  and  left  it.  It  may  be  said  to  be 


228  PRACTICAL  PUBLIC  SPEAKING 

favorable  to  the  prosecutor's  story  that  the  money 
which  did  not  belong-  to  him,  and  the  plunder  of 
which  would  seem  to  be  the  most  probable  induce- 
ment he  could  have  to  feign  a  robbery,  was  not 
taken.  But  the  jury  will  consider  whether  this  cir- 
cumstance does  not  bear  quite  as  strongly  the  other 
way,  and  whether  they  can  believe  that  robbers 
could  have  left  this  money,  either  from  accident 
or  design. 

The  robbers,  by  Goodridge's  account,  were  ex- 
tremely careful  to  search  his  person.  Having  found 
money  in  his  portmanteau  and  in  his  pocket-book, 
they  still  forthwith  stripped  him  to  the  skin,  and 
searched  until  they  found  the  sum  which  had  been 
so  carefully  deposited  under  his  clothes.  Was  it 
likely,  that,  having  found  money  in  the  places  where 
it  is  ordinarily  carried,  robbers  should  proceed  to 
search  for  more,  where  they  had  no  reason  to  sup- 
pose more  would  be  found  ?  Goodridge  says  that 
no  person  knew  of  his  having  put  his  bank-notes  in 
that  situation.  On  the  first  attack,  however,  they 
proceeded  to  open  one  garment  after  another,  until 
they  penetrated  to  the  treasure,  which  was  beneath 
them  all. 

The  testimony  of  Mr.  Howard  is  material.  He  ex- 
amined Goodridge's  pistol,  which  was  found  on  the 
spot,  and  thinks  it  had  not  been  fired  at  all.  If  this 
be  so,  it  would  follow  that  the  wound  through  the 
hand  was  not  made  by  this  pistol ;  but  then,  as  the 
pistol  is  now  discharged,  if  it  had  not  been  fired,  he 
is  not  correct  in  swearing  that  he  fired  it  at  the  rob- 
bers, nor  could  it  have  been  loaded  at  Exeter,  as  he 
testified. 

In  the  whole  case,  there  is  nothing,  perhaps,  more 
deserving  consideration,  than  the  prosecutor's  state- 


DANIEL   WEBSTER  229 

ment  of  the  violence  which  the  robbers  used  toward 
him.  He  says  he  was  struck  with  a  heavy  club,  on 
the  back  part  of  his  head.  He  fell  senseless  to  the 
ground.  Three  or  four  rough-handed  villains  then 
dragged  him  to  the  fence,  and  through  it  or  over 
it,  with  such  force  as  to  break  one  of  the  boards. 
They  then  plundered  his  money.  Presently  he  came 
to  his  senses  ;  perceived  his  situation  ;  saw  one  of 
the  robbers  sitting  or  standing  near  ;  he  valiantly 
sprang  upon,  and  would  have  overcome  him,  but 
the  ruffian  called  out  for  his  comrades,  who  returned, 
and  altogether  they  renewed  their  attack  upon,  sub- 
dued him,  and  redoubled  their  violence.  They 
struck  him  heavy  blows  ;  they  threw  him  violently 
to  the  ground  ;  they  kicked  him  in  the  side  ;  they 
choked  him ;  one  of  them,  to  use  his  own  words, 
jumped  upon  his  breast.  They  left  him  only  when 
they  supposed  they  had  killed  him.  He  went  back 
to  Pearson's,  at  the  bridge,  in  a  state  of  delirium, 
and  it  was  several  hours  before  his  recollection 
came  to  him.  This  is  his  account.  Now,  in  point 
of  fact,  it  is  certain  that  on  no  part  of  his  person  was 
there  the  least  mark  of  this  beating  and  wounding. 
The  blow  on  the  head,  which  brought  him  senseless 
to  the  ground,  neither  broke  the  skin,  nor  caused  any 
tumor,  nor  left  any  mark  whatever.  He  fell  from 
his  horse  onto  the  frozen  ground,  without  any  appear- 
ance of  injury.  He  was  drawn  through  or  over  the 
fence  with  such  force  as  to  break  the  rail,  but  not  so 
as  to  leave  any  wound  or  scratch  on  him.  A  sec- 
ond time  he  is  knocked  down,  kicked,  stamped  upon, 
choked,  and  in  every  way  abused  and  beaten  till 
sense  had  departed,  and  the  breath  of  life  hardly  re- 
mained ;  and  yet  no  wound,  bruise,  discoloration,  or 
mark  of  injury  was  found  to  result  from  all  this. 


230  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

Except  the  wound  in  his  hand,  and  a  few  slight 
punctures  in  his  left  arm,  apparently  made  with  his 
own  penknife,  which  was  found  open  on  the  spot, 
there  was  no  wound  or  mark  which  the  surgeons, 
upon  repeated  examinations,  could  anywhere  dis- 
cover. This  is  a  story  not  to  be  believed.  No  mat- 
ter who  tells  it,  it  is  so  impossible  to  be  true,  that 
all  belief  is  set  at  defiance.  No  man  can  believe  it. 
All  this  tale  of  blows  which  left  no  marks,  and  of 
wounds  which  could  not  be  discovered,  must  be  the 
work  of  imagination.  If  the  jury  can  believe  that 
he  was  robbed,  it  is  impossible  they  can  believe  his 
account  of  the  manner  of  it. 

With  respect,  next,  to  delirium.  The  jury  have 
heard  the  physicians.  Two  of  them  have  no  doubt 
it  was  all  feigned.  Dr.  Spofford  spoke  in  a  more 
guarded  manner,  but  it  was  very  evident  his  opin- 
ion agreed  with  theirs.  In  the  height  of  his  rav- 
ing, the  physician  who  was  present  said  to  others, 
that  he  could  find  nothing  the  matter  with  the  man, 
and  that  his  pulse  was  perfectly  regular.  But  con- 
sider the  facts  which  Dr.  Balch  testifies.  He  sus- 
pected the  whole  of  this  illness  and  delirium  to  be 
feigned.  He  wished  to  ascertain  the  truth.  While 
he  or  others  were  present,  Goodridge  appeared  to 
be  in  the  greatest  pains  and  agony  from  his  wounds. 
He  could  not  turn  himself  in  bed,  nor  be  turned  by 
others,  without  infinite  distress.  His  mind,  too, 
was  as  much  disordered  as  his  body.  He  was  con- 
stantly raving  about  robbery  and  murder.  At 
length  the  physicians  and  others  withdrew,  and  left 
him  alone  in  the  room.  Dr.  Balch  returned  softly 
to  the  door,  which  he  had  left  partly  open,  and 
there  he  had  a  full  view  of  his  patient,  unobserved 
by  him.  Goodridge  was  then  very  quiet.  His  in- 


DANIEL   WEBSTER  231 

coherent  exclamations  had  ceased.  Dr.  Balch  saw 
him  turn  over  without  inconvenience.  Pretty  soon 
he  sat  up  in  bed,  and  adjusted  his  neckcloth  and 
his  hair.  Then,  hearing  footsteps  on  the  staircase, 
he  instantly  sank  into  the  bed  again ;  his  pains  all 
returned,  and  he  cried  out  against  robbers  and 
murderers  as  loud  as  ever.  Now,  these  facts  are  all 
sworn  to  by  an  intelligent  witness,  who  cannot  be 
mistaken  in  them ;  a  respectable  physician,  whose 
veracity  or  accuracy  is  in  no  way  impeached  or 
questioned.  After  this,  it  is  difficult  to  retain  any 
good  opinion  of  the  prosecutor.  Robbed  or  not 
robbed,  this  was  his  conduct ;  and  such  conduct 
necessarily  takes  away  all  claim  to  sympathy  and 
respect.  The  jury  will  consider  whether  it  does  not 
also  take  away  all  right  to  be  believed  in  anything. 
For  if  they  should  be  of  opinion  that  in  any  one  point 
he  has  intentionally  misrepresented  facts,  he  can  be 
believed  in  nothing.  No  man  is  to  be  convicted  on 
the  testimony  of  a  witness  whom  the  jury  has  found 
wilfully  violating  the  truth  in  any  particular. 

The  next  part  of  the  case  is  the  conduct  of  the 
prosecutor  in  attempting  to  find  out  the  robbers, 
after  he  had  recovered  from  his  illness.  He  sus- 
pected Mr.  Pearson,  a  very  honest,  respectable  man, 
who  keeps  the  tavern  at  the  bridge.  He  searched  his 
house  and  premises.  He  sent  for  a  conjuror  to 
come,  with  his  metallic  rods  and  witch-hazel,  to  find 
the  stolen  money.  Goodridge  says  now,  that  he 
thought  he  should  find  it,  if  the  conjuror's  instru- 
ments were  properly  prepared.  He  professes  to 
have  full  faith  in  the  art.  Was  this  folly,  or  fraud, 
or  a  strange  mixture  of  both  ?  Pretty  soon  after 
the  last  search,  gold  pieces  were  actually  found  near 
Mr.  Pearson's  house,  in  the  manner  stated  by  the 


232  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

female  witness.  How  came  they  there?  Did  the 
robber  deposit  them  there  ?  That  is  not  possible. 
Did  he  accidentally  leave  them  there  ?  Why  should 
not  a  robber  take  as  good  care  of  his  money  as 
others,  ?  It  is  certain,  too,  that  the  gold  pieces  were 
not  put  there  at  the  time  of  the  robbery,  because  the 
ground  was  then  bare  ;  but  when  these  pieces  were 
found,  there  were  several  inches  of  snow  below  them. 
When  Goodridge  searched  here  with  his  conjuror,  he 
was  on  this  spot,  alone  and  unobserved,  as  he  thought. 
Whether  he  did  not,  at  that  time,  drop  his  gold  into 
the  snow,  the  jury  will  judge.  When  he  came  to 
this  search,  he  proposed  something  very  ridiculous. 
He  proposed  that  all  persons  about  to  assist  in  the 
search  should  be  examined,  to  see  that  they  had 
nothing  which  they  could  put  into  Pearson's  posses- 
sion, for  the  purpose  of  being  found  there.  But 
how  was  this  examination  to  be  made  ?  Why,  truly, 
Goodridge  proposed  that  every  man  should  examine 
himself,  and  that,  among  others,  he  would  examine 
himself,  till  he  was  satisfied  he  had  nothing  in  his 
pockets  which  he  could  leave  at  Pearson's,  with  the 
fraudulent  design  of  being  afterward  found  there, 
as  evidence  against  Pearson.  What  construction 
would  be  given  to  such  conduct  ? 

As  to  Jackman,  Goodridge  went  to  New  York  and 
arrested  him.  In  his  room  he  says  he  found  paper 
coverings  of  gold,  with  his  own  figures  on  them,  and 
pieces  of  an  old  and  useless  receipt,  which  he  can 
identify,  and  which  he  had  in  his  possession  at  the 
time  of  the  robbery.  He  found  these  things  lying 
on  the  floor  in  Jackman's  room.  What  should  in- 
duce the  robbers,  when  they  left  all  other  papers,  to 
take  this  receipt?  And  what  should  induce  Jack- 
man to  carry  it  to  New  York,  and  keep  it,  with  the 


DANIEL   WEBSTER  233 

coverings  of  the  gold,  in  a  situation  where  it  was 
likely  to  be  found,  and  used  as  evidence  against 
him? 

There  is  no  end  to  the  series  of  improbabilities 
growing  out  of  the  prosecutor's  story. 

One  thing  especially  deserves  notice.  Wherever 
Goodridge  searches,  he  always  finds  something ;  and 
what  he  finds,  he  always  can  identify  and  swear  to, 
as  being  his.  The  thing  found  has  always  some 
marks  by  which  he  knows  it.  Yet  he  never  finds 
much.  He  never  finds  the  mass  of  his  lost  treasure. 
He  finds  just  enough  to  be  evidence,  and  no  more. 

These  are  the  circumstances  which  tend  to  raise 
doubts  of  the  truth  of  the  prosecutor's  relation.  It 
is  for  the  jury  to  say,  whether  it  would  be  safe  to 
convict  any  man  for  this  robbery  until  these  doubts 
shall  be  cleared  up.  No  doubt  they  are  to  judge 
him  candidly  ;  but  they  are  not  to  make  everything 
yield  to  a  regard  to  his  reputation,  or  a  desire  to 
vindicate  him  from  the  suspicion  of  a  fraudulent 
prosecution. 

He  stands  like  other  witnesses,  except  that  he  is 
a  very  interested  witness  ;  and  he  must  hope  for 
credit,  if  at  all,  from  the  consistency  and  general 
probability  of  the  facts  to  which  he  testifies.  The 
jury  will  not  convict  the  prisoners  to  save  the  pros- 
ecutor from  disgrace.  He  has  had  every  oppor- 
tunity of  making  out  his  case.  If  any  person  in  the 
State  could  have  corroborated  any  part  of  his  story, 
that  person  he  could  have  produced.  He  has  had 
the  benefit  of  full  time,  and  good  counsel,  and  of 
the  Commonwealth's  process,  to  bring  in  his  wit- 
nesses. More  than  all,  he  has  had  an  opportunity 
of  telling  his  own  story,  with  the  simplicity  that 
belongs  to  truth,  if  it  were  true,  and  the  frankness 


234  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

and  earnestness  of  an  honest  man,  if  he  be  such. 
It  is  for  the  jury  to  say,  under  their  oaths,  how  he 
has  acquitted  himself  in  these  particulars,  and 
whether  he  has  left  their  minds  free  from  doubt  as 
to  the  truth  of  his  narration. 

But  if  Goodrich  were  really  robbed,  is  there  sat- 
isfactory evidence  that  the  defendants  had  a  hand 
in  the  commission  of  this  offence  ?  The  evidence 
relied  on  is  the  finding  of  the  money  in  their  house. 
It  appears  that  these  defendants  lived  tog-ether, 
and,  with  a  sister,  constituted  one  family.  Their 
father  lived  in  another  part  of  the  same  house,  and 
with  his  wife  constituted  another  and  distinct  fam- 
ily. In  this  house,  some  six  weeks  after  the  rob- 
bery, the  prosecutor  made  a  search  ;  and  the  result 
has  been  stated  by  the  witnesses.  Now,  if  the 
money  had  been  passed  or  used  by  the  defendants 
it  might  have  been  conclusive.  If  found  about 
their  persons,  it  might  have  been  very  strong  proof. 
But,  under  the  circumstances  of  this  case,  the  mere 
finding  of  money  in  their  house,  and  that  only  in 
places  where  the  prosecutor  had  previously  been,  is 
no  evidence  at  all.  With  respect  to  the  gold  pieces, 
it  is  certainly  true  that  they  were  found  in  Good- 
ridge's  track.  They  were  found  only  where  he  had 
been,  and  might  have  put  them. 

When  the  sheriff  was  in  the  house  and  Good- 
ridge  in  the  cellar,  gold  was  found  in  the  cellar. 
When  the  sheriff  was  up  stairs  and  Goodridge  in 
the  rooms  below,  the  sheriff  was  called  down  to 
look  for  money  where  Goodridge  directed,  and 
there  money  was  found.  As  to  the  bank-note,  the 
evidence  is  not  quite  so  clear.  Mr.  Leavitt  says  he 
found  a  note  in  a  drawer  in  a  room  in  which  none  of 
the  party  had  before  been ;  that  he  thought  it  an 


DANIEL    WEBSTER  235 

uncurrent  or  counterfeit  note,  and  not  a  part  of 
Goodridge's  money,  and  left  it  where  lie  found  it 
without  further  notice.  An  hour  or  two  afterward, 
Upton  perceived  a  note  in  the  same  drawer,  Good- 
ridge  being  then  with  or  near  him,  and  called  to 
Leavitt.  Leavitt  told  him  that  he  had  discovered 
that  note  before,  but  that  it  could  not  be  Good- 
ridge's.  It  was  then  examined.  Leavitt  says  he 
looked  at  it,  and  saw  writing  on  the  back  of  it. 
Upton  says  he  looked  at  it,  and  saw  writing  on  the 
back  of  it.  He  says  also  that  it  was  shown  to  Good- 
ridge,  who  examined  it  in  the  same  way  that  he 
and  Leavitt  examined  it.  None  of  the  party  at  this 
time  suspected  it  to  be  Goodridge's.  It  was  then 
put  into  Leavitt's  pocket-book,  where  it  remained 
till  evening,  when  it  was  taken  out  at  the  tavern  ; 
and  then  it  turns  out  to  be,  plainly  and  clearly,  one 
of  Goodridge's  notes,  and  has  the  name  of  "  James 
Poor,  Bangor,"  in  Goodridge's  own  handwriting,  on 
the  back  of  it.  The  first  thing  that  strikes  one  in 
this  account  is,  Why  was  not  this  discovery  made 
at  the  time.  Goodridge  was  looking  for  notes,  as 
well  as  gold.  He  was  looking  for  Boston  notes,  for 
such  he  had  lost.  He  was  looking  for  ten-dollar 
notes,  for  such  he  had  lost.  He  was  looking  for 
notes  which  he  could  recognize  and  identify.  He 
would,  therefore,  naturally  be  particularly  attentive 
to  any  writing  or  marks  upon  such  as  he  might  find. 
Under  these  circumstances,  a  note  is  found  in  the 
house  of  the  supposed  robbers.  It  is  a  Boston  note, 
it  is  a  ten-dollar  note,  it  has  writing  on  the  back  of 
it ;  that  writing  is  the  name  of  his  town  and  the 
name  of  one  of  his  neighbors ;  more  than  all,  that 
writing  is  his  own  handwriting!  Notwithstanding 
all  this,  neither  Goodridge,  nor  Upton,  nor  the 


236  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

sheriff,  examined  it  so  as  to  see  whether  it  was 
Goodridge's  money.  Notwithstanding  it  so  fully 
resembled,  in  all  points,  the  money  they  were  look- 
ing for,  and  notwithstanding  they  also  saw  writing 
on  the  back  of  it,  which,  they  must  know,  if  they 
read  it,  would  probably  have  shown  where  it  came 
from,  neither  of  them  did  so  far  examine  it  as  to  see 
any  proof  of  its  being  Goodridge's. 

This  is  hardly  to  be  believed.  It  must  be  a  pretty 
strong  faith  in  the  prosecutor  that  could  credit  this 
story.  In  every  part  of  it,  it  is  improbable  and  ab- 
surd. It  is  much  more  easy  to  believe  that  the  note 
was  changed.  There  might  have  been,  and  there 
probably  was,  an  uncurrent  or  counterfeit  note  found 
in  the  drawer  by  Leavitt.  He  certainly  did  not  at 
the  time  think  it  to  be  Goodridge's,  and  he  left  it  in 
the  drawer  where  he  found  it.  Before  he  saw  it 
again,  the  prosecutor  had  been  in  that  room,  and 
was  in  or  near  it  when  the  sheriff  was  again  called 
in  and  asked  to  put  that  bill  in  his  pocket-book. 
How  do  the  jury  know  that  this  was  the  same  note 
which  Leavitt  had  before  seen?  Or  suppose  it  was. 
Leavitt  carried  it  to  Coffin's  ;  in  the  evening  he  pro- 
duced it,  and,  after  having  been  handed  about  for 
some  time  among  the  company,  it  turns  out  to  be 
Goodridge's  note,  and  to  have  upon  it  infallible  marks 
of  identity.  How  do  the  jury  know  that  a  sleight  of 
hand  had  not  changed  the  note  at  Coffin's  ?  It  is  suffi- 
cient to  say,  the  note  might  have  been  changed.  It  is 
not  certain  that  this  is  the  note  which  Leavitt  first 
found  in  the  drawer,  and  this  not  being  certain,  it  is 
not  proof  against  the  defendants. 

Is  it  not  extremely  improbable,  if  the  defendants 
are  guilty,  that  they  should  deposit  the  money  in  the 
places  where  it  was  found  ?  Why  should  they  put  it 


DANIEL    WEBSTER  237 

in  small  parcels  in  so  many  places,  for  no  end  but  to 
multiply  the  chances  of  detection  ?  Why,  especially, 
should  they  put  a  doubloon  in  their  father's  pocket- 
book  ?  There  is  no  evidence,  nor  any  ground  of  sus- 
picion, that  the  father  knew  of  the  money  being-  in 
his  pocket-book.  He  swears  he  did  not  know  it. 
His  general  character  is  unimpeached,  and  there  is 
nothing-  against  his  credit.  The  inquiry  at  Stratham 
was  calculated  to  elicit  the  truth  ;  and,  after  all,  there 
is  not  the  slightest  reason  to  suspect  that  he  knew 
that  the  doubloon  was  in  his  pocket-book.  What 
could  possibly  induce  the  defendants  to  place  it 
there  ?  No  man  can  conjecture  a  reason.  On  the 
other  hand,  if  this  is  a  fraudulent  proceeding  on  the 
part  of  the  prosecutor,  this  circumstance  could  be 
explained.  He  did  not  know  that  the  pocket-book, 
and  the  garment  in  which  it  was  found,  did  not  be- 
long to  one  of  the  defendants.  He  was  as  likely, 
therefore,  to  place  it  there  as  elsewhere.  It  is  very 
material  to  consider  that  nothing  was  found  in  that 
part  of  the  house  which  belonged  to  the  defendants. 
Every  thing  was  discovered  in  the  father's  apart- 
ments. They  were  not  found,  therefore,  in  the  pos- 
session of  the  defendants,  any  more  than  if  they  had 
been  discovered  in  any  other  house  in  the  neighbor- 
hood. The  two  tenements,  it  is  true,  were  under  the 
same  roof ;  but  they  were  not  on  that  account  the 
same  tenements.  They  were  as  distinct  as  any  other 
houses.  Now  how  should  it  happen  that  the  several 
parcels  of  money  should  all  be  found  in  the  father's 
possession  ?  He  is  not  suspected,  certainly  there  is 
no  reason  to  suspect  him,  of  having  had  any  hand 
either  in  the  commission  of  the  robbery  or  the  con- 
cealing of  the  goods.  He  swears  he  had  no  knowl- 
edge of  any  part  of  this  money  being  in  his  house. 


238  PRACTICAL    PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

It  is  not  easy  to  imagine  how  it  came  there,  unless 
it  be  supposed  to  have  been  put  there  by  some  one 
who  did  not  know  what  part  of  the  house  belonged 
to  the  defendants  and  what  part  did  not. 

The  witnesses  on  the  part  of  the  prosecution  have 
testified  that  the  defendants,  when  arrested,  mani 
fested  great  agitation  and  alarm  ;  paleness  over- 
spread their  faces,  and  drops  of  sweat  stood  on  their 
temples.  This  satisfied  the  witnesses  of  the  defend- 
ants' guilt,  and  they  now  state  the  circumstances  as 
being  indubitable  proof.  This  argument  manifests, 
in  those  who  use  it,  an  equal  want  of  sense  and  sen- 
sibility. It  is  precisely  fitted  to  the  feeling  and  the 
intellect  of  a  bum-bailiff.  In  a  court  of  justice  it  de- 
serves nothing  but  contempt.  Is  there  nothing  that 
can  agitate  the  frame  or  excite  the  blood  but  the 
consciousness  of  guilt  ?  If  the  defendants  were  in- 
nocent, would  they  not  feel  indignation  at  this  unjust 
accusation?  If  they  saw  an  attempt  to  produce 
false  evidence  against  them,  would  they  not  be  an- 
gry ?  And,  seeing  the  production  of  such  evidence, 
might  they  not  feel  fear  and  alarm  ?  And  have  in- 
dignation, and  anger,  and  terror,  no  power  to  affect 
the  human  countenance  or  the  human  frame  ? 

Miserable,  miserable,  indeed,  is  the  reasoning 
which  would  infer  any  man's  guilt  from  his  agitation 
when  he  found  himself  accused  of  a  heinous  offence ; 
when  he  saw  evidence  which  he  might  know  to  be 
false  and  fraudulent  brought  against  him  ;  when  his 
house  was  filled,  from  the  garret  to  the  cellar,  by 
those  whom  he  might  esteem  as  false  witnesses ;  and 
when  he  himself,  instead  of  being  at  liberty  to  ob- 
serve their  conduct  and  watch  their  motions,  was  a 
prisoner  in  close  custody  in  his  own  house,  with  the 
fists  of  a  catch-poll  clenched  upon  his  throat. 


DANIEL   WEBSTER  239 

The  defendants  were  at  Newburyport  the  after- 
noon and  evening  of  the  robbery.  For  the  greater 
part  of  the  time  they  show  where  they  were,  and 
what  they  were  doing.  Their  proof,  it  is  true,  does 
not  apply  to  every  moment.  But  when  it  is  consid- 
ered that,  from  the  moment  of  their  arrest,  they  have 
been  in  close  prison,  perhaps  they  have  shown  as 
much  as  could  be  expected.  Few  men,  when  called 
on  afterwards,  can  remember,  and  fewer  still  can 
prove,  how  they  have  passed  every  hour  of  an  even- 
ing. At  a  reasonable  hour  they  both  came  to  the 
house  where  Laban  had  lodged  the  night  before. 
Nothing  suspicious  was  observed  in  their  manner  or 
conversation.  Is  it  probable  they  would  thus  come 
unconcernedly  into  the  company  of  others,  from  a 
field  of  robbery,  and,  as  they  must  have  supposed, 
of  murder,  before  they  could  have  ascertained 
whether  the  stain  of  blood  was  not  on  their  garments  ? 
They  remained  in  the  place  a  part  of  the  next  day. 
The  town  was  alarmed  ;  a  strict  inquiry  was  made  of 
all  strangers,  and  of  the  defendants  among  others. 
Nothing  suspicious  was  discovered.  They  avoided 
no  inquiry,  nor  did  they  leave  the  town  in  any  haste. 
The  jury  has  had  an  opportunity  of  seeing  the  de- 
fendants. Does  their  general  appearance  indicate 
that  hardihood  which  would  enable  them  to  act  this 
cool,  unconcerned  part  ?  Is  it  not  more  likely  they 
would  have  fled  ? 

From  the  time  of  the  robbery  to  the  arrest,  five  or 
six  weeks,  the  defendants  were  engaged  in  their 
usual  occupations.  They  are  not  found  to  have 
passed  a  dollar  of  money  to  any  body.  They  con- 
tinued their  ordinary  habits  of  labor.  No  man  saw 
money  about  them,  nor  any  circumstance  that  might 
lead  to  a  suspicion  that  they  had  money.  Nothing 


240  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

occurred  tending  in  any  degree  to  excite  suspicion 
against  them.  When  arrested,  and  when  all  this 
array  of  evidence  was  brought  against  them,  and 
when  they  could  hope  in  nothing  but  their  inno- 
cence, immunity  was  offered  them  again  if  they 
would  confess.  They  were  pressed,  and  urged,  and 
allured,  by  every  motive  which  could  be  set  before 
them,  to  acknowledge  their  participation  in  the 
offence,  and  to  bring  out  their  accomplices.  They 
steadily  protested  that  they  could  confess  nothing 
because  they  knew  nothing.  In  defiance  of  all  the 
discoveries  made  in  their  house,  they  have  trusted 
to  their  innocence.  On  that,  and  on  the  candor  and 
discernment  of  an  enlightened  jury,  they  still  rely. 

If  the  jury  are  satisfied  that  there  is  the  highest 
improbability  that  these  persons  could  have  had 
any  previous  knowledge  of  Goodridge,  or  been  con- 
cerned in  any  previous  concert  to  rob  him ;  if  their 
conduct  that  evening  and  the  next  day  was  marked 
by  no  circumstances  of  suspicion ;  if  from  that  mo- 
ment until  their  arrest  nothing  appeared  against 
them ;  if  they  neither  passed  money,  nor  are  found 
to  have  had  money  ;  if  the  manner  of  the  search  of 
their  house,  and  the  circumstances  attending  it, 
excite  strong  suspicions  of  unfair  and  fraudulent 
practises ;  if,  in  the  hour  of  their  utmost  peril,  no 
promises  of  safety  could  draw  from  the  defendants 
any  confession  affecting  themselves  or  others,  it  will 
be  for  the  jury  to  say  whether  they  can  pronounce 
them  guilty. 


REPLY    TO    FLOOD 
HENEY  GKATTAN 

House  of  Commons,  October  28, 1783 

IT  has  been  said  by  Mr.  Flood,  that  "  the  pen 
would  fall  from  the  hand,  and  the  foetus  of  the  mind 
would  die  unborn,"  if  men  had  not  a  privilege  to 
maintain  a  right  in  the  Parliament  of  England  to 
make  law  for  Ireland.  The  affectation  of  zeal,  and  a 
burst  of  forced  and  metaphorical  conceits,  aided  by 
the  arts  of  the  press,  gave  an  alarm  which,  I  hope, 
was  momentary,  and  which  only  exposed  the  artifice 
of  those  who  were  wicked,  and  the  haste  of  those 
who  were  deceived. 

But  it  is  not  the  slander  of  an  evil  tongue  that 
can  defame  me.  I  maintain  my  reputation  in  public 
and  in  private  life.  No  man  who  has  not  a  bad 
character  can  ever  say  that  I  deceived ;  no  country 
can  call  me  cheat.  But  I  will  suppose  such  a  public 
character.  I  will  suppose  such  a  man  to  have  exist- 
ence. I  will  begin  with  his  character  in  its  political 
cradle,  and  I  will  follow  him  to  the  last  state  of  po- 
litical dissolution. 

I  will  suppose  him,  in  the  first  stage  of  his  life,  to 
have  been  intemperate  ;  in  the  second,  to  have  been 
corrupt ;  and  in  the  last,  seditious ;  that  after  an 
envenomed  attack  on  the  persons  and  measures  of 
a  succession  of  viceroys,  and  after  much  declama- 
tion against  their  illegalities  and  their  profusion, 

241 


242  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

he  took  office,  and  became  a  supporter  of  govern- 
ment when  the  profusion  of  ministers  had  greatly 
increased,  and  their  crimes  multiplied  beyond  exam- 
ple; when  your  money  bills  were  altered  without 
reserve  by  the  Council ;  when  an  embargo  was  laid 
on  your  export  trade,  and  a  war  declared  against 
the  liberties  of  America.  At  such  a  critical  mo- 
ment, I  will  suppose  this  gentleman  to  be  corrupted 
by  a  great  sinecure  office  to  muzzle  his  declama- 
tion, to  swallow  his  invectives,  to  give  his  assent 
and  vote  to  the  ministers,  and  to  become  a  sup- 
porter of  government,  its  measures,  its  embargo, 
and  its  American  war.  I  will  suppose  that  he  was 
suspected  by  the  government  that  had  bought  him, 
and  in  consequence  thereof,  that  he  thought  proper 
to  resort  to  the  acts  of  a  trimmer,  the  last  sad  refuge 
of  disappointed  ambition  ;  that,  with  respect  to  the 
Constitution  of  his  country,  that  part,  for  instance, 
which  regarded  the  Mutiny  Bill,  when  a  clause  of 
reference  was  introduced,  whereby  the  articles  of 
war,  which  were,  or  hereafter  might  be,  passed  in 
England,  should  be  current  in  Ireland  without  the 
interference  of  her  Parliament— when  such  a  clause 
was  in  view,  I  will  suppose  this  gentleman  to  have 
absconded.  Again,  when  the  bill  was  made  perpet- 
ual, I  will  suppose  him  again  to  have  absconded ; 
but  a  year  and  a  half  after  the  bill  had  passed,  then  I 
will  suppose  this  gentleman  to  have  come  forward, 
and  to  say  that  your  Constitution  had  been  de- 
stroyed by  the  Perpetual  Bill.  With  regard  to  that 
part  of  the  Constitution  that  relates  to  the  law  of 
Poynings,  I  will  suppose  the  gentleman  to  have 
made  many  a  long,  very  long  disquisition  before  he 
took  office,  but,  after  he  received  office,  to  have  been 
as  silent  on  that  subject  as  before  he  had  been  lo- 


HENRY   GEATTAN  243 

quacious.  That,  when  money  bills,  under  color  of 
that  law,  were  altered,  year  after  year,  as  in  1775 
and  1776,  and  when  the  bills  so  altered  were  re- 
sumed and  passed,  I  will  suppose  that  gentleman  to 
have  absconded  or  acquiesced,  and  to  have  sup- 
ported the  minister  who  made  the  alteration;  but 
when  he  was  dismissed  from  office,  and  a  member 
introduced  a  bill  to  remedy  this  evil,  I  will  suppose 
that  this  gentleman  inveighed  against  the  mischief, 
against  the  remedy,  and  against  the  person  of  the 
introducer,  who  did  that  duty  which  he  himself  for 
seven  years  had  abandoned.  With  respect  to  that 
part  of  the  Constitution  which  is  connected  with 
the  repeal  of  the  6th  of  George  the  First,  when  the 
inadequacy  of  the  repeal  was  debating  in  the  House, 
I  will  suppose  this  gentleman  to  make  no  kind  of 
objection ;  that  he  never  named,  at  that  time,  the 
word  renunciation  ;  and  that,  on  the  division  on  that 
subject,  he  absconded ;  but  when  the  office  he  had 
lost  was  given  to  another  man,  that  he  came  for- 
ward, and  exclaimed  against  the  measure ;  nay,  that 
he  went  into  the  public  streets  to  canvass  for  sedi- 
tion; that  he  became  a  rambling  incendiary,  and 
endeavored  to  excite  a  mutiny  in  the  Volunteers 
against  an  adjustment  between  Great  Britain  and 
Ireland,  of  liberty  and  repose,  which  he  had  not 
the  virtue  to  make,  and  against  an  administration 
who  had  the  virtue  to  free  the  country  without  buy- 
ing the  members. 

With  respect  to  commerce,  I  will  suppose  this 
gentleman  to  have  supported  an  embargo  which  lay 
on  the  country  for  three  years,  and  almost  destroyed 
it ;  and  when  an  address  in  1778,  to  open  her  trade, 
was  propounded,  to  remain  silent  and  inactive. 
And  with  respect  to  that  other  part  of  her  trade, 


244  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

which  regarded  the  duty  on  sugar,  when  the  mer- 
chants were  examined  in  1778,  on  the  inadequate 
protecting-  duty,  when  the  inadequate  duty  was 
voted,  when  the  act  was  recommitted,  when  another 
duty  was  proposed,  when  the  bill  returned  with  the 
inadequate  duty  substituted,  when  the  altered  bill 
was  adopted,  on  every  one  of  those  questions  I  will 
suppose  the  gentleman  to  abscond  ;  but  a  year  and 
a  half  after  the  mischief  was  done,  he  out  of  office, 
I  will  suppose  him  to  come  forth,  and  to  tell  his 
country  that  her  trade  had  been  destroyed  by  an 
inadequate  duty  on  English  sugar,  as  her  Constitu- 
tion had  been  ruined  by  a  Perpetual  Mutiny  Bill ! 
In  relation  to  three-fourths  of  our  fellow-subjects, 
the  Catholics,  when  a  bill  was  introduced  to  grant 
them  rights  of  property  and  religion,  I  will  suppose 
this  gentleman  to  have  come  forth  to  give  his  nega- 
tive to  their  pretensions.  In  the  same  manner,  I 
will  suppose  him  to  have  opposed  the  institution  of 
the  Volunteers,  to  which  we  owe  so  much,  and  that 
he  went  to  a  meeting  in  his  own  county  to  prevent 
their  establishment;  that  he  himself  kept  out  of 
their  associations  ;  that  he  was  almost  the  only  man 
in  this  House  that  was  not  in  uniform,  and  that  he 
never  was  a  Volunteer  until  he  ceased  to  be  a  place- 
man, and  until  he  became  an  incendiary. 

With  regard  to  the  liberties  of  America,  which 
were  inseparable  from  ours,  I  will  suppose  this  gen- 
tleman to  have  been  an  enemy,  decided  and  unre- 
served ;  that  he  voted  against  her  liberty,  and  voted, 
moreover,  for  an  address  to  send  four  thousand  Irish 
troops  to  cut  the  throats  of  the  Americans ;  that  he 
called  these  butchers  "  armed  negotiators,"  and 
stood  with  a  metaphor  in  his  mouth,  and  a  bribe  in 
his  pocket,  a  champion  against  the  rights  of  Amer- 


HENRY   GRATTAK  245 

ica,  the  only  hope  of  Ireland,  and  the  only  refuge 
of  the  liberties  of  mankind.  Thus  defective  in  every 
relationship  whether  to  Constitution,  commerce,  or 
toleration,  I  will  suppose  this  man  to  have  added 
much  private  improbity  to  public  crimes  ;  that  his 
probity  was  like  his  patriotism,  and  his  honor  on  a 
level  with  his  oath.  He  loves  to  deliver  panegyrics 
on  himself.  I  will  interrupt  him  and  say,  "  Sir,  you 
are  much  mistaken  if  you  think  that  your  talents 
have  been  as  great  as  your  life  has  been  reprehen- 
sible. You  began  your  parliamentary  career  with 
an  acrimony  and  personality  which  could  have  been 
justified  only  by  a  supposition  of  virtue.  After  a 
rank  and  clamorous  opposition  you  became,  on  a 
sudden,  silent  ;  you  were  silent  for  seven  years  ;  you 
were  silent  on  the  greatest  questions  ;  and  you  were 
silent  for  money !  In  1773,  while  a  negotiation  was 
pending  to  sell  your  talents  and  your  turbulence, 
you  absconded  from  your  duty  in  Parliament ;  you 
forsook  your  law  of  Poynings ;  you  forsook  the 
questions  of  economy,  and  abandoned  all  the  old 
themes  of  your  former  declamation.  You  were  not 
at  that  period  to  be  found  in  the  House.  You  were 
seen,  like  a  guilty  spirit,  haunting  the  lobby  of  the 
House  of  Commons,  watching  the  moment  in  which 
the  question  should  be  put,  that  you  might  vanish. 
You  were  descried  with  a  criminal  anxiety,  retiring 
from  the  scenes  of  your  past  glory  ;  or  you  were 
perceived  coasting  the  upper  benches  of  this  House 
like  a  bird  of  prey,  with  an  evil  aspect  and  a  sepul- 
chral note,  meditating  to  pounce  on  its  quarry.  These 
ways — they  were  not  the  ways  of  honor — you  prac- 
tised pending  a  negotiation  which  was  to  end  either 
in  your  sale  or  your  sedition.  The  former  taking 
place,  you  supported  the  rankest  measures  that  ever 


246  PRACTICAL  PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

came  before  Parliament ;  the  embargo  of  1776,  for 
instance,  "O,  fatal  embargo,  that  breach  of  law, 
and  ruin  of  commerce ! "  You  supported  the  unpa- 
ralleled profusion  and  jobbing-  of  Lord  Harcourt's 
scandalous  ministry — the  address  to  support  the 
American  war— the  other  address  to  send  four  thou- 
sand men,  which  you  had  yourself  declared  to  be 
necessary  for  the  defence  of  Ireland,  to  fight  against 
the  liberties  of  America,  to  which  you  had  declared 
yourself  a  friend.  You,  sir,  who  delight  to  utter 
execrations  against  the  American  commissioners  of 
1778,  on  account  of  their  hostility  to  America — you, 
sir,  who  manufacture  stage  thunder  against  Mr. 
Eden  for  his  anti-American  principles — you,  sir, 
whom  it  pleases  to  chant  a  hymn  to  the  immortal 
Hampden — you,  sir,  approved  of  the  tyranny  exer- 
cised against  America ;  and  you,  sir,  voted  four 
thousand  Irish  troops  to  cut  the  throats  of  the 
Americans  fighting  for  their  freedom,  fighting  for 
your  freedom,  fighting  for  the  great  principle,  LIB- 
ERTY !  But  you  found,  at  last  (and  this  should  be 
an  eternal  lesson  to  men  of  your  craft  and  cunning), 
that  the  king  had  only  dishonored  you ;  the  court 
had  bought,  but  would  not  trust  you ;  and,  having 
voted  for  the  worst  measures,  you  remained,  for 
seven  years,  the  creature  of  salary,  without  the  con- 
fidence of  government.  Mortified  at  the  discovery 
and  stung  by  disappointment,  you  betake  yourself 
to  the  sad  expedients  of  duplicity.  You  try  the 
sorry  game  of  a  trimmer  in  your  progress  to  the 
acts  of  an  incendiary.  You  give  no  honest  support 
either  to  the  government  or  the  people.  You,  at 
the  most  critical  period  of  their  existence,  take  no 
part ;  you  sign  no  non-consumption  agreement ;  you 
are  no  Volunteer ;  you  oppose  no  Perpetual  Mutiny 


HENRY   GRATTAN  247 

Bill ;  no  altered  Sugar  Bill ;  you  declare  that  you 
lament  that  the  Declaration  of  Bight  should  have 
been  brought  forward ;  and  observing,  with  regard 
to  both  prince  and  people,  the  most  impartial  treach- 
ery and  desertion,  you  justify  the  suspicion  of  your 
Sovereign,  by  betraying  the  government,  as  you  had 
sold  the  people,  until,  at  last,  by  this  hollow  con- 
duct, and  for  some  other  steps,  the  result  of  morti- 
fied ambition,  being  dismissed,  and  another  person 
put  in  your  place,  you  fly  to  the  ranks  of  the  Volun- 
teers and  canvass  for  mutiny ;  you  announce  that 
the  country  was  ruined  by  other  men  during  that 
period  in  which  she  had  been  sold  by  you.  Your 
logic  is,  that  the  repeal  of  a  declaratory  law  is  not 
the  repeal  of  a  law  at  all,  and  the  effect  of  that  logic 
is,  an  English  act  affecting  to  emancipate  Ireland, 
by  exercising  over  her  the  legislative  authority  of 
the  British  Parliament.  Such  has  been  your  con- 
duct ;  and  at  such  conduct  every  order  of  your  fel- 
low-subjects have  a  right  to  exclaim!  The  mer- 
chant may  say  to  you — the  constitutionalist  may 
say  to  you— the  American  may  say  to  you — and  I, 
/  now  say,  and  say  to  your  beard,  sir — you  are  not 
an  honest  man  I  " 


THE    NEW    SOUTH 
HENKY  W.  GKADY 

New  England  Society,  New   York,  December  22,  1886 

"  THERE  was  a  South  of  slavery  and  secession — 
that  South  is  dead.  There  is  a  South  of  union  and 
freedom — that  South,  thank  God,  is  living,  breath- 
ing, growing  every  hour."  These  words,  delivered 
from  the  immortal  lips  of  Benjamin  H.  Hill,  at  Tam- 
many Hall,  in  1866,  true  then,  and  truer  now,  I  shall 
make  my  text  to-night. 

Mr.  President  and  Gentlemen  :  Let  me  express  to 
you  my  appreciation  of  the  kindness  by  which  I  am 
permitted  to  address  you.  I  make  this  abrupt  ac- 
knowledgment advisedly,  for  I  feel  that  if,  when  I 
raised  my  provincial  voice  in  this  ancient  and  august 
presence,  I  could  find  courage  for  no  more  than  the 
opening  sentence,  it  would  be  well  if,  in  that  sentence, 
I  had  met  in  a  rough  sense  my  obligation  as  a  guest, 
and  had  perished,  so  to  speak,  with  courtesy  on  my 
lips  and  grace  in  my  heart. 

Permitted,  through  your  kindness,  to  catch  my 
second  wind,  let  me  say  that  I  appreciate  the  signifi- 
cance of  being  the  first  Southerner  to  speak  at  this 
board,  which  bears  the  substance,  if  it  surpasses  the 
semblance  of  original  New  England  hospitality,  and 
honors  a  sentiment  that  in  turn  honors  you,  but  in 
which  my  personality  is  lost  and  the  compliment  to 
my  people  made  plain. 

248 


HENRY   W.    GRADY  249 

I  bespeak  the  utmost  stretch  of  your  courtesy  to- 
night. I  ani  not  troubled  about  those  from  whom  I 
come.  You  remember  the  man  whose  wife  sent  him 
to  a  neighbor  with  a  pitcher  of  milk,  and  who,  trip- 
ping- on  the  top  step,  fell,  with  such  casual  interrup- 
tions as  the  landings  afforded,  into  the  basement ; 
and,  while  picking  himself  up,  had  the  pleasure  of 
hearing  his  wife  call  out : 

"  John,  did  you  break  the  pitcher?  " 

o,  I  didn't,"  said  John,  "but  I  be  dinged  if  I 
don't." 

So,  while  those  who  call  to  me  from  behind  may 
inspire  me  with  energy,  if  not  with  courage,  I  ask  an 
indulgent  hearing  from  you.  I  beg  that  you  will 
bring  your  full  faith  in  American  fairness  and  frank- 
ness to  judgment  upon  what  I  shall  say.  There  was 
an  old  preacher  once  who  told  some  boys  of  the  Bible 
lesson  he  was  going  to  read  in  the  morning.  The 
boys,  finding  the  place,  glued  together  the  connect- 
ing pages.  The  next  morning  he  read  on  the  bottom 
of  one  page  :  "  When  Noah  was  one  hundred  and 
twenty  years  old  he  took  unto  himself  a  wife,  who 
was "  then  turning  the  page,  "  one  hundred  and 
forty  cubits  long,  forty  cubits  wide,  built  of  gopher 
wood,  and  covered  with  pitch  inside  and  out."  He 
was  naturally  puzzled  at  this.  He  read  it  again, 
verified  it,  and  then  said  :  "  My  friends,  this  is  the 
first  time  I  ever  met  this  in  the  Bible,  but  I  accept 
it  as  an  evidence  of  the  assertion  that  we  are  fear- 
fully and  wonderfully  made."  If  I  could  get  you  to 
hold  such  faith  to-night,  I  could  proceed  cheerfully 
to  the  task  I  otherwise  approach  with  a  sense  of  con- 
secration 

Pardon  me  one  word,  Mr.  President,  spoken  for 
the  sole  purpose  of  getting  into  the  volumes  that  go 


250  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

out  annually  freighted  with  the  rich  eloquence  of 
your  speakers — the  fact  that  the  Cavalier,  as  well  as 
the  Puritan,  was  on  the  continent  in  its  early  days, 
and  that  he  was  "  up  and  able  to  be  about."  I  have 
read  your  books  carefully  and  I  find  no  mention  of 
that  fact,  which  seems  to  me  an  important  one  for 
preserving  a  sort  of  historical  equilibrium,  if  for 
nothing  else. 

Let  me  remind  you  that  the  Virginia  Cavalier  first 
challenged  France  on  this  continent ;  that  Cavalier 
John  Smith  gave  New  England  its  very  name,  and 
was  so  pleased  with  the  job  that  he  has  been  handing 
his  own  name  around  ever  since  ;  and  that  while  Miles 
Standish  was  cutting  off  men's  ears  for  courting  a 
girl  without  her  parents'  consent,  and  forbidding  men 
to  kiss  their  wives  on  Sunday,  the  Cavalier  was 
courting  everything  in  sight ;  and  that  the  Almighty 
had  vouchsafed  great  increase  to  the  Cavalier  colon- 
ies, the  huts  in  the  wilderness  being  as  full  as  the 
nests  in  the  woods. 

But  having  incorporated  the  Cavalier  as  a  fact  in 
your  charming  little  book,  I  shall  let  him  work  out 
his  own  salvation,  as  he  has  always  done  with  en- 
gaging gallantry,  and  we  will  hold  no  controversy 
as  to  his  merits.  Why  should  we  ?  Neither  Puritan 
nor  Cavalier  long  survived  as  such.  The  virtues 
and  traditions  of  both,  happily,  still  live  for  the  in- 
spiration of  their  sons  and  the  saving  of  the  old 
fashion.  Both  Puritan  and  Cavalier  were  lost  in 
the  storm  of  the  first  Revolution,  and  the  American 
citizen,  supplanting  both,  and  stronger  than  either, 
took  possession  of  the  republic  bought  by  their  com- 
mon blood  and  fashioned  to  wisdom,  and  charged 
himself  with  teaching  men  government  and  estab- 
lishing the  voice  of  the  people  as  the  voice  of  God. 


HENRY    W.   GRADY  251 

My  friend,  Dr.  Talmage,  has  told  you  that  the 
typical  American  has  yet  to  come.  Let  me  tell  you 
that  he  has  already  come.  Great  types,  like  valu- 
able plants,  are  slow  to  flower  and  fruit.  But  from 
the  union  of  these  colonist  Puritans  and  Cavaliers, 
from  the  straightening  of  their  purposes  and  the 
crossing-  of  their  blood,  slowly  perfecting  through  a 
century,  came  he  who  stands  as  the  first  typical 
American,  the  first  who  comprehended  within  him- 
self all  the  strength  and  gentleness,  all  the  majesty 
and  grace  of  this  republic,  Abraham  Lincoln.  He 
was  the  sum  of  Puritan  and  Cavalier ;  for  in  his 
ardent  nature  were  fused  the  virtues  of  both,  and  in 
the  depths  of  his  great  soul  the  faults  of  both  were 
lost.  He  was  greater  than  Puritan,  greater  than 
Cavalier,  in  that  he  was  American,  and  that  in  his 
homely  form  were  first  gathered  the  vast  and  thril- 
ling forces  of  his  ideal  government  charging  it  with 
such  tremendous  meaning,  and  so  elevating  it  above 
human  suffering,  that  martyrdom,  though  infamously 
aimed,  came  as  a  fitting  crown  to  a  life  consecrated, 
from  the  cradle,  to  human  liberty.  Let  us,  each 
cherishing  the  traditions  and  honoring  his  fathers, 
build  with  reverent  hands  to  the  type  of  his  simple 
but  sublime  life,  in  which  all  types  are  honored ; 
and  in  our  common  glory  as  Americans  there  will 
be  plenty  and  some  to  spare  for  your  forefathers  and 
for  mine. 

In  speaking  to  the  toast  with  which  you  have 
honored  me,  I  accept  the  term,  "  The  New  South," 
as  in  no  sense  disparaging  to  the  old.  Dear  to  me, 
sir,  is  the  home  of  my  childhood,  and  the  traditions 
of  my  people.  I  would  not,  if  I  could,  dim  the 
glory  they  won  in  peace  and  war,  or  by  word  or 
deed  take  aught  from  the  splendor  and  grace  of 


252  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

their  civilization,  never  equalled,  and  perhaps  never 
to  be  equalled  in  its  chivalric  strength  and  grace. 
There  is  a  New  South,  not  through  protest  against 
the  old,  but  because  of  new  conditions,  new  adjust- 
ments, and,  if  you  please,  new  ideas  and  aspirations. 
It  is  to  this  that  I  address  myself,  and  to  the  con- 
sideration of  which  I  hasten,  lest  it  become  the  Old 
South  before  I  get  to  it.  Age  does  not  endow  all 
things  with  strength  and  virtue,  nor  are  all  new 
things  to  be  despised.  The  shoemaker  who  put 
over  his  door,  "  John  Smith's  shop,  founded  1760," 
was  more  than  matched  by  his  young  rival  across 
the  street  who  hung  out  this  sign :  "  Bill  Jones. 
Established  1886.  No  old  stock  kept  in  this  shop." 
/•"Dr.  Talmage  has  drawn  for  you,  with  a  master 
hand,  the  picture  of  your  returning  armies.  He  has 
told  you  how,  in  the  pomp  and  circumstance  of  war, 
they  came  back  to  you,  marching  with  proud  and 
victorious  tread,  reading  their  glory  in  a  nation's 
eyes.  Will  you  bear  with  me  while  I  tell  you  of 
another  army  that  sought  its  home  at  the  close  of 
the  late  war  ?  An  army  that  marched  home  in  de- 
feat and  not  in  victory  ;  in  pathos  and  not  in  splen- 
dor, but  in  glory  that  equalled  yours,  and  to  hearts 
as  loving  as  ever  welcomed  heroes  home.  Let  me 
picture  to  you  the  footsore  Confederate  soldier,  as? 
buttoning  up  in  his  faded  gray  jacket  the  parole 
which  was  to  bear  testimony  to  his  children  of  his 
fidelity  and  faith,  he  turned  his  face  southward  from 
Appomattox  in  April,  1865.  Think  of  him  as  ragged, 
half-starved,  heavy-hearted,  enfeebled  by  want  and 
wounds ;  having  fought  to  exhaustion,  he  surrenders 
his  gun,  wrings  the  hands  of  his  comrades  in  silence, 
and,  lifting  his  tear-stained  and  pallid  face  for  the 
last  time  to  the  graves  that  dot  the  old  Virginia  hills, 


HENRY   W.    GRADY  25B 

pulls  his  gray  cap  over  his  brow  and  begins  the  slow 
and  painful  journey.  What  does  he  find  ? — let  me 
ask  you  who  went  to  your  homes  eager  to  find,  in 
the  welcome  you  had  justly  earned,  full  payment 
for  four  years'  sacrifice — what  does  he  find  when, 
having  followed  the  battle-stained  cross  against 
overwhelming  odds,  dreading  death  not  half  so  much 
as  surrender,  he  reaches  the  home  he  left  so  pros- 
perous and  beautiful  ?  He  finds  his  house  in  ruins, 
his  farm  devastated,  his  slaves  free,  his  stock  killed, 
his  barn  empty,  his  trade  destroyed,  his  money 
worthless ;  his  social  system,  feudal  in  its  magnifi- 
cence, swept  away  ;  his  people  without  law  or  legal 
status ;  his  comrades  slain,  and  the  burdens  of 
others  heavy  on  his  shoulders.  Crushed  by  defeat, 
his  very  traditions  gone  ;  without  money,  credit, 
employment,  material  training  •  and  besides  all  this, 
confronted  with  the  gravest  problem  that  ever  met 
human  intelligence — the  establishment  of  a  status 
for  the  vast  body  of  his  liberated  slaves. 
u  What  does  he  do — this  hero  in  gray,  with  a  heart 
of  gold  ?  Does  he  sit  down  in  sullenness  and  de- 
spair ?  Not  for  a  day.  Surely  God,  who  had  stripped 
him  of  his  prosperity,  inspired  him  in  his  adversity. 
As  ruin  was  never  before  so  overwhelming,  never 
was  restoration  swifter,  The  soldier  stepped  from 
the  trenches  into  the  furrow ;  horses  that  had 
charged  Federal  guns  marched  before  the  plough  ; 
and  the  fields  that  ran  red  with  human  blood  in 
April  were  green  with  the  harvest  in  June  ;  women 
reared  in  luxury  cut  up  their  dresses  and  made 
breeches  for  their  husbands,  and,  with  a  patience 
and  heroism  that  fit  women  always  as  a  garment, 
gave  their  hands  to  work.  There  was  little  bitter- 
ness in  all  this.  Cheerfulness  and  frankness  pre- 


254  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

vailed,  "  Bill  Arp  "  struck  the  keynote  when  he 
said :  "  Well,  I  killed  as  many  of  them  as  they  did 
of  me,  and  now  I  am  going-  to  work."  Or  the  soldier 
returning-  home  after  defeat  and  roasting-  some  corn 
on  the  roadside,  who  made  the  remark  to  his  com- 
rades :  "  You  may  leave  the  South  if  you  want  to, 
but  I  am  going-  to  Sandersville,  kiss  my  wife  and 
raise  a  crop,  and  if  the  Yankees  fool  with  me  any 
more  I  will  whip  'em  again."  I  want  to  say  to  Gen- 
eral Sherman — who  is  considered  an  able  man  in  our 
parts,  though  some  people  think  he  is  kind  of  care- 
less about  fire — that  from  the  ashes  he  left  us  in 
1864  we  have  raised  a  brave  and  beautiful  city ;  that 
somehow  or  other  we  have  caught  the  sunshine 
in  the  bricks  and  mortar  of  our  homes,  and  have 
builded  therein  not  one  ignoble  prejudice  or  mem- 
ory. 

But  in  all  this  what  have  we  accomplished  ?  What 
is  the  sum  of  our  work  ?  We  have  found  out  that 
in  the  general  summary  the  free  negro  counts  more 
than  he  did  as  a  slave.  We  have  planted  the  school- 
house  on  the  hilltop  and  made  it  free  to  white  and 
black.  We  have  sowed  towns  and  cities  in  the  place 
of  theories,  and  put  business  above  politics.  We 
have  learned  that  the  $400,000,000  annually  re- 
ceived from  our  cotton  crop  will  make  us  rich,  when 
the  supplies  that  make  it  are  home  raised.  We 
have  reduced  the  commercial  rate  of  interest  from 
twenty -four  to  four  per  cent.,  and  are  floating  four 
per  cent,  bonds.  We  have  learned  that  one  North- 
ern immigrant  is  worth  fifty  foreigners,  and  have 
smoothed  the  path  to  the  southward,  wiped  out  the 
place  where  Mason  and  Dixon's  line  used  to  be,  and 
hung  out  our  latchstring  to  you  and  yours. 

We  have  reached  the  point  that  marks  perfect  har- 


HENRY    W.    GRADY  255 

mony  in  every  household,  when  the  husband  con- 
fesses that  the  pies  which  his  wife  cooks  are  as  good 
as  those  his  mother  used  to  bake  ;  and  we  admit 
that  the  sun  shines  as  brightly  and  the  moon  as 
softly  as  it  did  "  before  the  war."  We  have  estab- 
lished thrift  in  the  city  and  country.  We  have 
fallen  in  love  with  work.  We  have  restored  com- 
forts to  homes  from  which  culture  and  elegance 
never  departed.  We  have  let  economy  take  root 
and  spread  among  us  as  rank  as  the  crab-grass 
which  sprung  from  Sherman's  cavalry  camps,  until 
we  are  ready  to  lay  odds  on  the  Georgia  Yankee,  as 
he  manufactures  relics  of  the  battlefield  in  a  one- 
story  shanty  and  squeezes  pure  olive  oil  out  of  his 
cotton  seed,  against  any  down-easter  that  ever 
swapped  wooden  nutmegs  for  flannel  sausages  in 
the  valley  of  Vermont. 

Above  all,  we  know  that  we  have  achieved  in  these 
"  piping  times  of  peace,"  a  fuller  independence  for 
the  South  than  that  which  our  fathers  sought  to  win 
in  the  forum  by  their  eloquence,  or  compel  on  the 
field  by  their  swords. 

It  is  a  rare  privilege,  sir,  to  have  had  a  part,  how- 
ever humble,  in  this  work.  Never  was  nobler  duty 
confided  to  human  hands  than  the  uplifting  and  up- 
building of  the  prostrate  and  bleeding  South,  mis- 
guided, perhaps,  but  beautiful  in  her  suffering,  and 
honest,  brave,  and  generous  always.  In  the  record 
of  her  social,  industrial,  and  political  restoration  we 
await  with  confidence  the  verdict  of  the  world. 

But  what  of  the  negro  ?  Have  we  solved  the 
problem  he  presents,  or  progressed  in  honor  and 
equity  toward  the  solution  ?  Let  the  record  speak 
to  the  point.  No  section  shows  a  more  prosperous 
laboring  population  than  the  negroes  of  the  South  ; 


256  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

none  in  fuller  sympathy  with  the  employing-  and 
land-owning  class.  He  shares  our  school  fund,  has 
the  fullest  protection  of  our  laws,  and  the  friendship 
of  our  people.  Self-interest,  as  well  as  honor,  de- 
mands that  they  should  have  this.  Our  future,  our 
very  existence,  depends  upon  our  mxrking  out  this 
problem  in  full  and  exact  justiceJ^We  understand 
that  when  Lincoln  signed  the  EmaTtMpation  Procla- 
mation, your  victory  was  assured  ;  for  he  then  com- 
mitted you  to  the  cause  of  human  liberty,  against 
which  the  arms  of  man  cannot  prevail ;  while  those 
of  our  statesmen  who  trusted  to  make  slavery  the 
corner-stone  of  the  Confederacy  doomed  us  to  defeat 
as  far  as  they  could,  committing  us  to  a  cause  that 
reason  could  not  defend  or  the  sword  maintain  in 
the  sight  of  advancing  civilization.  Had  Mr.  Toombs 
said,  which  he  did  not  say,  that  he  would  call  the 
roll  of  his  slaves  at  the  foot  of  Bunker  Hill,  he 
would  have  been  foolish,  for  he  might  have  known 
that  whenever  slavery  became  entangled  in  war  it 
must  perish,  and  that  the  chattel  in  human  flesh 
ended  forever  in  New  England  when  your  fathers — 
not  to  be  blamed  for  parting  with  what  did  not  pay 
— sold  their  slaves  to  our  fathers,  not  to  be  praised 
for  knowing  a  paying  thing  when  they  saw  it. 

The  relations  of  the  Southern  people  with  the 
negro  are  close  and  cordial.  We  remember  with 
what  fidelity  for  four  years  he  guarded  our  defence- 
less women  and  children,  whose  husbands  and  fath- 
ers were  fighting  against  his  freedom.  To  his  credit 
be  it  said  that  whenever  he  struck  a  blow  for  his 
own  liberty  he  fought  in  open  battle ;  and  when  at 
last  he  raised  his  black  and  humble  hands  that  the 
shackles  might  be  struck  off,  those  hands  were  inno- 
cent of  wrong  against  his  helpless  charges,  and 


HENRY    W.    GRADY  257 

worthy  to  be  taken  in  loving  grasp  by  every  man 
who  honors  loyalty  and  devotion. 

Ruffians  have  maltreated  him,  rascals  have  misled 
him,  philanthropists  established  a  bank  for  him,  but 
the  South  with  the  North  protest  against  injustice 
to  this  simp^^M  sincere  people.  To  liberty  and 
enfranchisenM  •  as  far  as  the  law  can  carry  the 
negro.  The^^tnust  be  left  to  conscience  and 
common  sense.  li^should  be  left  to  those  among 
whom  his  lot  is  cast,  with  whom  he  is  indissolubly 
connected,  and  whose  prosperity  depends  upon  their 
possessing  his  intelligent  sympathy  and  confidence. 
Faith  has  been  kept  with  him  in  spite  of  calumnious 
assertions  to  the  contrary  by  those  who  assume  to 
speak  for  us,  or  by  frank  opponents.  Faith  will  be 
kept  with  him  in  the  future,  if  the  South  holds  her 
reason  and  integrity. 

But  have  we  kept  faith  with  you  ?  In  the  fullest 
sense,  yes.  When  Lee  surrendered — I  don't  say 
when  Johnston  surrendered,  because  I  understand  he 
still  alludes  to  the  time  when  he  met  General  Sher- 
man last  as  the  time  when  he  "  determined  to  aban- 
don any  further  prosecution  of  the  struggle  " — when 
Lee  surrendered,  I  say,  and  Johnston  quit,  the  South 
became,  and  has  been,  loyal  to  the  Union.  We 
fought  hard  enough  to  know  that  we  were  whipped, 
and  in  perfect  frankness  accepted  as  final  the  arbi- 
trament of  the  sword  to  which  we  had  appealed. 
The  South  found  her  jewel  in  the  toad's  head  of  de- 
feat. The  shackles  that  had  held  her  in  narrow 
limitations  fell  forever  when  the  shackles  of  the 
negro  slave  were  broken. 

Under  the  old  regime  the  negroes  were  slaves  to 
the  South,  the  South  was  a  slave  to  the  system.  The 
lod  plantation,  with  its  simple  police  regulations 


258  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

and  its  feudal  habit,  was  the  only  type  possible  un- 
der slavery.  Thus  was  gathered  in  the  hands  of  a 
splendid  and  chivalric  oligarchy  the  substance  that 
should  have  been  diffused  among  the  people,  as 
the  rich  blood,  under  certain  artificial  conditions,  is 
gathered  at  the  heart,  filling  tha^jjtii  affluent  rupt- 
ure, but  leaving  the  body  chill  afl  Bbrless. 

The  old  South  rested  everyth^BKi  slavery  and 
agriculture,  unconscious  that  these  could  neither 
give  nor  maintain  healthy  growth.  The  new  South 
presents  a  perfect  Democracy,  the  oligarchs  leading 
in  the  popular  movement — a  social  system  com- 
pact and  closely  knitted,  less  splendid  on  the  sur- 
face but  stronger  at  the  core  ;  a  hundred  farms  for 
every  plantation,  fifty  homes  for  every  palace,  and  a 
diversified  industry  that  meets  the  complex  needs 
of  this  complex  age. 

The  new  South  is  enamored  of  her  new  work.  Her 
soul  is  stirred  with  the  breath  of  a  new  life.  The 
light  of  a  grander  day  is  falling  fair  on  her  face. 
She  is  thrilling  with  the  consciousness  of  a  growing 
power  and  prosperity.  As  she  stands  upright,  full- 
statured  and  equal  among  the  people  of  the  earth, 
breathing  the  keen  air  and  looking  out  upon  the  ex- 
panding horizon,  she  understands  that  her  emanci- 
pation came  because  in  the  inscrutable  wisdom  of 
God  her  honest  purpose  was  crossed  and  her  brave 
armies  were  beaten. 

This  is  said  in  no  spirit  of  time-serving  or  apol- 
ogy. The  South  has  nothing  for  which  to  apologize. 
She  believes  that  the  late  struggle  between  the 
States  was  war  and  not  rebellion,  revolution  and  not 
conspiracy,  and  that  her  convictions  were  as  honest 
as  yours.  I  should  be  unjust  to  the  dauntless  spirit 
of  the  South  and  to  my  own  convictions  if  I  did  not 


HENRY    W.    GRADY  259 

make  this  plain  in  this  presence.  The  South  has 
nothing  to  take  back.  In  my  native  town  of  Athens 
is  a  monument  that  crowns  its  central  hills — a  plain, 
white  shaft.  Deep  cut  into  its  shining  side  is  a 
name  dear  to  me  above  the  names  of  men,  that  of  a 
brave  and  simple  man  who  died  in  a  brave  and  sim- 
ple faith.  Not  for  all  the  glories  of  New  England — 
from  Plymouth  Rock  all  the  way — would  I  exchange 
the  heritage  he  left  me  in  his  soldier's  death.  To 
the  feet  of  that  shaft  I  shall  send  my  children's 
children  to  reverence  him  who  ennobled  their  name 
with  his  heroic  blood.  But,  sir,  speaking  from  the 
shadow  of  that  memory,  which  I  honor  as  I  do  noth- 
ing else  on  earth,  I  say  that  the  cause  in  which  he 
suffered  and  for  which  he  gave  his  life  was  adjudged 
by  higher  and  fuller  wisdom  than  his  or  mine,  and  I 
am  glad  that  the  omniscient  God  held  the  balance 
of  battle  in  His  Almighty  Hand,  and  that  human 
slavery  was  swept  forever  from  American  soil — the 
American  Union  saved  from  the  wreck  of  war. 

This  message,  Mr.  President,  comes  to  you  from 
consecrated  ground.  Every  foot  of  the  soil  about 
the  city  in  which  I  live  is  sacred  as  a  battle-ground 
of  the  republic.  Every  hill  that  invests  it  is  hal- 
lowed to  you  by  the  blood  of  your  brothers  who 
died  for  your  victory,  and  doubly  hallowed  to  us  by 
the  blood  of  those  who  died  hopeless,  but  undaunted, 
in  defeat— ^sacred  soil  to  all  of  us,  rich  with  memo-  .0<v£ 
ries  that  make  us  purer  and  stronger  and  better, 
silent  but  staunch  witnesses  in  its  red  desolation  of 
the  matchless  valor  of  American  hearts  and  the 
deathless  glory  of  American  arms — speaking  an  elo- 
quent witness,  in  its  white  peace  and  prosperity,  to 
the  indissoluble  union  of  American  States  and  the 
imperishable  brotherhood  of  the  American  people. 


260  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC    SPEAKING 

Now  what  answer  has  New  England  to  this  mes- 
sage ?  Will  she  permit  the  prejudice  of  war  to 
remain  in  the  hearts  of  the  conquerors,  when  it  has 
died  in  the  hearts  of  the  conquered  ?  Will  she  trans- 
mit this  prejudice  to  the  next  generation,  that  in 
their  hearts,  which  never  felt  the  generous  ardor  of 
conflict,  it  may  perpetuate  itself  ?  Will  she  with- 
hold, save  in  strained  courtesy,  the  hand  which, 
straight  from  his  soldier's  heart,  Grant  offered  to  Lee 
at  Appomattox  ?  Will  she  make  the  vision  of  a  re- 
stored and  happy  people,  which  gathered  above  the 
couch  of  your  dying  captain,  filling  his  heart  with 
grace,  touching  his  lips  with  praise  and  glorifying 
his  path  to  the  grave ;  will  she  make  this  vision,  on 
which  the  last  sigh  of  his  expiring  soul  breathed  a 
benediction,  a  cheat  and  a  delusion  ?  If  she  does, 
the  South,  never  abject  in  asking  for  comradeship, 
must  accept  with  dignity  its  refusal ;  but  if  she  does 
not — if  she  accepts  with  frankness  and  sincerity  this 
message  of  good  will  and  friendship,  then  will  the 
prophecy  of  Webster,  delivered  in  this  very  Society 
forty  years  ago,  amid  tremendous  applause,  be  veri- 
fied in  its  fullest  and  final  sense,  when  he  said : 
"  Standing  hand  to  hand  and  clasping  hands,  we 
should  remain  united  as  we  have  for  sixty  years, 
citizens  of  the  same  country,  members  of  the  same 
government,  united  all,  united  now,  and  united  for- 
ever." There  have  been  difficulties,  contentions,  and 
controversies,  but  I  tell  you  that  in  my  judgment 

" '  Those  opposed  eyes, 
Which,  like  the  meteors  of  a  troubled  heaven, 
All  of  one  nature,  of  one  substance  bred, 
Did  lately  meet  in  th'  intestine  shock, 
Shall  now,  in  mutual,  well-beseeming  ranks 
March  all  one  way.'  " 


AGAINST  SEABCH-WABBANTS  FOE 
SEAMEN 

LOED  CHATHAM 

House  of  Commons,  March  6,  1741 

["  War  was  declared  against  Spain  in  October,  1739,  and  it  soon 
became  extremely  difficult  to  man  the  British  fleets.  Hence,  a  bill 
was  brought  forward  by  Sir  Charles  Wagner,  in  January,  1741,  con- 
ferring authority  on  Justices  of  the  Peace  to  issue  search-warrants, 
under  which  constables  might  enter  private  dwellings  either  by  day 
or  by  night— and,  if  need  be,  might  force  the  doors— for  the  pur- 
pose of  discovering  seamen,  and  impressing  them  into  the  public 
service.  So  gross  an  act  of  injustice  awakened  the  indignation  of 
Mr.  Pitt,  who  poured  out  the  following  invective  against  the 
measure,  and  those  who  were  endeavoring  to  force  it  on  the 
House."] 

SIR — The  two  honorable  and  learned  gentlemen 
who  spoke  in  favor  of  this  clause  were  pleased  to 
show  that  our  seamen  are  half  slaves  already,  and 
now  they  modestly  desire  you  should  make  them 
wholly  so.  Will  this  increase  your  number  of  sea- 
men ?  or  will  it  make  those  you  have  more  willing 
to  serve  you?  Can  you  expect  that  any  man  will 
make  himself  a  slave  if  he  can  avoid  it  ?  Can  you 
expect  that  any  man  will  breed  his  child  up  to  be 
a  slave  ?  Can  you  expect  that  seamen  will  venture 
their  lives  or  their  limbs  for  a  country  that  has 
made  them  slaves  ?  or  can  you  expect  that  any  sea- 
man will  stay  in  the  country,  if  he  can  by  any  means 
make  his  escape  ?  Sir,  if  you  pass  this  law,  you 

261 


262  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

must,  in  my  opinion,  do  with  your  seamen  as  they 
do  with  their  galley-slaves  in  France— you  must 
chain  them  to  their  ships,  or  chain  them  in  couples 
when  they  are  ashore.  But  suppose  this  should 
both  increase  the  number  of  your  seamen,  and 
render  them  more  willing-  to  serve  you,  it  will 
render  them  incapable.  It  is  a  common  observa- 
tion, that  when  a  man  becomes  a  slave,  he  loses 
half  his  virtue.  What  will  it  signify  to  have  your 
ships  all  manned  to  their  full  complement  ?  Your 
men  will  have  neither  the  courage  nor  the  tempta- 
tion to  fight ;  they  will  strike  to  the  first  enemy  that 
attacks  them,  because  their  condition  can  not  be 
made  worse  by  a  surrender.  Our  seamen  have  al- 
ways been  famous  for  a  matchless  alacrity  and  in- 
trepidity in  time  of  danger  ;  this  has  saved  many  a 
British  ship,  when  other  seamen  would  have  run 
below  deck,  and  left  the  ship  to  the  mercy  of  the 
waves,  or,  perhaps,  of  a  more  cruel  enemy,  a  pirate. 
For  God's  sake,  sir,  let  us  not,  by  our  new  projects, 
put  our  seamen  into  such  a  condition  as  must  soon 
make  them  worse  than  the  cowardly  slaves  of  France 
or  Spain. 

The  learned  gentlemen  were  next  pleased  to  show 
us  that  the  government  is  already  possessed  of 
such  a  power  as  is  now  desired.  And  how  did  they 
show  it  ?  Why,  sir,  by  showing  that  this  was  the 
practice  in  the  case  of  felony,  and  in  the  case  of 
those  who  are  as  bad  as  felons,  I  mean  those  who 
rob  the  public,  or  dissipate  the  public  money.  Shall 
we,  sir,  put  our  brave  sailors  upon  the  same  footing 
with  felons  and  public  robbers  ?  Shall  a  brave, 
honest  sailor  be  treated  as  a  felon,  for  no  other  rea- 
son but  because,  after  a  long  voyage,  he  has  a  mind 
to  solace  himself  among  his  friends  in  the  country, 


LORD   CHATHAM  263 

and  for  that  purpose  absconds  for  a  few  weeks,  in 
order  to  prevent  his  being-  pressed  upon  a  Spithead, 
or  some  such  pacific  expedition  ?  For  I  dare  answer 
for  it,  there  is  not  a  sailor  in  Britain  but  would  im- 
mediately offer  his  services,  if  he  thought  his  country 
in  any  real  danger,  or  expected  to  be  sent  upon  an 
expedition  where  he  might  have  a  chance  of  gaining 
riches  to  himself  and  glory  to  his  country.  I  am 
really  ashamed,  sir,  to  hear  such  arguments  made 
use  of  in  any  case  where  our  seamen  are  concerned. 
Can  we  expect  that  brave  men  will  not  resent  such 
treatment  ?  Could  we  expect  they  would  stay  with 
us,  if  we  should  make  a  law  for  treating  them  in 
such  a  contemptible  manner  ? 

But  suppose,  sir,  we  had  no  regard  for  our  sea- 
men, I  hope  we  shall  have  some  regard  for  the  rest 
of  the  people,  and  for  ourselves,  in  particular ;  for  I 
think  I  do  not  in  the  least  exaggerate  when  I  say, 
we  are  laying  a  trap  for  the  lives  of  all  the  men  of 
spirit  in  the  nation.  Whether  the  law,  when  made, 
is  to  be  carried  into  execution,  I  do  not  know ;  but 
if  it  is,  we  are  laying  a  snare  for  our  own  lives. 
Every  gentleman  of  this  House  must  be  supposed, 
I  hope  justly,  to  be  a  man  of  spirit.  Would  any  of 
you,  gentlemen,  allow  this  law  to  be  executed  in  its 
full  extent  ?  If,  at  midnight,  a  petty  constable,  with  a 
press-gang,  should  come  thundering  at  the  gates  of 
your  house  in  the  country,  and  should  tell  you  he 
had  a  search-warrant,  and  must  search  your  house 
for  seamen,  would  you  at  that  time  of  night  allow 
your  gates  to  be  opened  ?  I  protest  I  would  not. 
What,  then,  would  be  the  consequence  ?  He  has  by 
this  law  a  power  to  break  them  open.  Would  any 
of  you  patiently  submit  to  such  an  indignity  ? 
Would  not  you  fire  upon  him,  if  he  attempted  to  break 


264  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

open  your  gates  ?  I  declare  I  would,  let  the  con- 
sequence be  never  so  fatal,  and  if  you  happen  to  be 
in  the  bad  graces  of  a  minister  the  consequence 
would  be  your  being  either  killed  in  the  fray,  or 
hanged  for  killing  the  constable  or  some  of  his 
gang.  This,  sir,  may  be  the  case  of  even  some  of 
us  here ;  and,  upon  my  honor,  I  do  not  think  it  an 
exaggeration  to  suppose  it  may. 

The  honorable  gentlemen  say  no  other  remedy 
has  been  proposed.  Sir,  there  have  been  several 
other  remedies  proposed.  Let  us  go  into  a  com- 
mittee to  consider  what  has  been,  or  may  be  pro- 
posed. Suppose  no  other  remedy  should  be  offered  ; 
to  tell  us  we  must  take  this,  because  no  other  remedy 
can  be  thought  of,  is  the  same  with  a  physician's 
telling  his  patient,  "  Sir,  there  is  no  known  remedy 
for  your  distemper,  therefore  you  shall  take  poison 
— I'll  cram  it  down  your  throat."  I  do  not  know 
how  the  nation  may  treat  its  physicians  ;  but,  I  am 
sure,  if  my  physician  told  me  so,  I  should  order  my 
servants  to  turn  him  out  of  doors. 

Such  desperate  remedies,  sir,  are  never  to  be 
applied  but  in  cases  of  the  utmost  extremity,  and 
how  we  come  at  present  to  be  in  such  extremity  I 
cannot  comprehend.  In  the  time  of  Queen  Eliza- 
beth we  were  not  thought  to  be  in  any  such  ex- 
tremity, though  we  were  then  threatened  with  the 
most  formidable  invasion  that  was  ever  prepared 
against  this  nation.  In  our  wars  with  the  Dutch,  a 
more  formidable  maritime  power  than  France  and 
Spain  now  would  be,  if  they  were  united  against  us, 
we  were  not  supposed  to  be  in  any  such  extremity, 
either  in  the  time  of  the  Commonwealth  or  of  King 
Charles  the  Second.  In  King  William's  war  against 
France,  when  her  naval  power  was  vastly  superior 


LORD   CHATHAM  265 

to  what  it  is  at  present,  and  when  we  had  more 
reason  to  be  afraid  of  an  invasion  than  we  can  have 
at  present,  we  were  thought  to  be  in  no  such  ex- 
tremity. In  Queen  Anne's  time,  when  we  were 
engaged  in  a  war  both  against  France  and  Spain, 
and  were  obliged  to  make  great  levies  yearly  for  the 
land  service,  no  such  remedy  was  ever  thought  of, 
except  for  one  year  only,  and  then  it  was  found  to 
be  far  from  being  effectual. 

This,  sir,  I  am  convinced,  would  be  the  case  now, 
as  well  as  it  was  then.  It  was  at  that  time  computed 
that,  by  means  of  such  a  law  as  this,  there  were  not 
above  fourteen  hundred  seamen  brought  into  the 
service  of  the  government,  and  considering  the 
methods  that  have  been  already  taken,  and  the 
reward  proposed  by  this  bill  to  be  offered  to  volun- 
teers, I  am  convinced  that  the  most  strict  and  general 
search  would  not  bring  in  half  the  number.  Shall 
we,  then,  for  the  sake  of  adding  six  or  seven  hundred, 
or  even  fourteen  hundred  seamen  to  his  Majesty's 
navy,  expose  our  Constitution  to  so  much  danger, 
and  every  housekeeper  in  the  kingdom  to  the  danger 
of  being  disturbed  at  all  hours  in  the  night  ? 

But  suppose  this  law  were  to  have  a  great  effect, 
it  can  be  called  nothing  but  a  temporary  expedient, 
because  it  can  in  no  way  contribute  toward  increas- 
ing the  number  of  our  seamen,  or  toward  rendering 
them  more  willing  to  enter  into  his  Majesty's  ser- 
vice. It  is  an  observation  made  by  Bacon  upon  the 
laws  passed  in  Henry  the  Seventh's  reign,  that  all  of 
them  were  calculated  for  futurity  as  well  as  the  pres- 
ent time.  This  showed  the  wisdom  of  his  councils  ; 
I  wish  I  could  say  so  of  our  present.  We  have  for 
some  years  thought  of  nothing  but  expedients  for 
getting  rid  of  some  present  inconvenience  by  run- 


266  PKACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

ning  ourselves  into  a  greater.  The  ease  or  conven- 
ience of  posterity  was  never  less  thought  of,  I  be- 
lieve, than  it  has  been  of  late  years.  I  wish  I  could 
see  an  end  of  these  temporary  expedients ;  for  we 
have  been  pursuing  them  so  long,  that  we  have  al- 
most undone  our  country  and  overturned  our  Con- 
stitution. Therefore,  sir,  I  shall  be  for  leaving  this 
clause  out  of  the  bill,  and  every  other  clause  relating 
to  it.  The  bill  will  be  of  some  service  without  them, 
and  when  we  have  passed  it,  we  may  then  go  into  a 
committee  to  consider  some  lasting  methods  for  in- 
creasing our  stock  of  seamen,  and  for  encouraging 
them  upon  all  occasions  to  enter  into  his  Majesty's 
service. 

["  In  consequence  of  these  remarks,  all  the  clauses 
relating  to  search-warrants  were  ultimately  struck 
out  of  the  bill. 

"  It  was  during  this  debate  that  the  famous  alterca- 
tion took  place  between  Mr.  Pitt  and  Horace  Wai- 
pole,  in  which  the  latter  endeavored  to  put  down  the 
young  orator  by  representing  him  as  having  too  lit- 
tle experience  to  justify  his  discussing  such  subjects, 
and  charging  him  with  '  petulancy  of  invective,' 
'  pompous  diction,'  and  '  theatrical  emotion.'  The 
substance  of  Mr.  Pitt's  reply  was  reported  to  John- 
son, who  wrote  it  out  in  his  own  language,  forming 
one  of  the  most  bitter  retorts  in  English  oratory.  It 
has  been  so  long  connected  with  the  name  of  Mr. 
Pitt,  that  the  reader  would  regret  its  omission  in  this 
work.  It  is  therefore  given  below,  not  as  a  specimen 
of  his  style,  which  was  exactly  the  reverse  of  the  sen- 
tentious manner  and  balanced  periods  of  Johnson, 
but  as  a  general  exhibition  of  the  sentiments  which 
he  expressed." — British  Eloquence,  By  Goodrich.] 


LORD   CHATHAM  267 

SIB — The  atrocious  crime  of  being  a  young-  man, 
which  the  honorable  gentleman  has,  with  such  spirit 
and  decency,  charged  upon  me,  I  shall  neither  at- 
tempt to  palliate  nor  deny,  but  content  myself  with 
wishing  that  I  may  be  one  of  those  whose  follies  may 
cease  with  their  youth,  and  not  of  that  number  who 
are  ignorant  in  spite  of  experience.  Whether  youth 
can  be  imputed  to  any  man  as  a  reproach,  I  will  not, 
sir,  assume  the  province  of  determining ;  but  surely 
age  may  become  justly  contemptible,  if  the  opportu- 
nities which  it  brings  have  passed  away  without  im- 
provement, and  vice  appears  to  prevail  when  the  pas- 
sions have  subsided.  The  wretch  who,  after  having 
seen  the  consequences  of  a  thousand  errors,  contin- 
ues still  to  blunder,  and  whose  age  has  only  added 
obstinacy  to  stupidity,  is  surely  the  object  of  either 
abhorrence  or  contempt,  and  deserves  not  that  his 
gray  hairs  should  secure  him  from  insult.  Much 
more,  sir,  is  he  to  be  abhorred,  who,  as  he  has  ad- 
vanced in  age,  has  receded  from  virtue,  and  becomes 
more  wicked  with  less  temptation ;  who  prostitutes 
himself  for  money  which  he  cannot  enjoy,  and 
spends  the  remains  of  his  life  in  the  ruin  of  his  coun- 
try. But  youth,  sir,  is  not  my  only  crime ;  I  have 
been  accused  of  acting  a  theatrical  part.  A  theat- 
rical part  may  either  imply  some  peculiarities  of 
gesture,  or  a  dissimulation  of  my  real  sentiments, 
and  an  adoption  of  the  opinions  and  language  of 
another  man. 

In  the  first  sense,  sir,  the  charge  is  too  trifling  to 
be  confuted,  and  deserves  only  to  be  mentioned  to 
be  despised.  I  am  at  liberty,  like  every  other  man, 
to  use  my  own  language ;  and  though,  perhaps,  I 
may  have  some  ambition  to  please  this  gentleman,  I 
shall  not  lay  myself  under  any  restraint,  nor  very 


268  PRACTICAL  PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

solicitously  copy  his  diction  or  his  mien,  however 
matured  by  age,  or  modelled  by  experience.  If  any 
man  shall,  by  charging-  me  with  theatrical  behavior, 
imply  that  I  utter  any  sentiments  but  my  own,  I  shall 
treat  him  as  a  calumniator  and  a  villain ;  nor  shall 
any  protection  shelter  him  from  the  treatment  he  de- 
serves. I  shall,  on  such  an  occasion,  without  scruple, 
trample  upon  all  those  forms  with  which  wealth 
and  dignity  intrench  themselves,  nor  shall  anything 
but  age  restrain  my  resentment — age,  which  always 
brings  one  privilege,  that  of  being  insolent  and  su- 
percilious without  punishment.  But  with  regard, 
sir,  to  those  whom  I  have  offended,  I  am  of  opinion, 
that  if  I  had  acted  a  borrowed  part,  I  should  have 
avoided  their  censure.  The  heat  that  offended  them 
is  the  ardor  of  conviction,  and  that  zeal  for  the  ser- 
vice of  my  country  which  neither  hope  nor  fear  shall 
influence  me  to  suppress.  I  will  not  sit  unconcerned 
while  my  liberty  is  invaded,  nor  look  in  silence  upon 
public  robbery.  I  will  exert  my  endeavors,  at  what- 
ever hazard,  to  repel  the  aggressor,  and  drag  the 
thief  to  justice,  whoever  may  protect  them  in  their 
villainy,  and  whoever  may  partake  of  their  plunder. 
And  if  the  honorable  gentleman— 

["  At  this  point  Mr.  Pitt  was  called  to  order  by 
Mr.  Wynnington,  who  went  on  to  say,  '  No  diversity 
of  opinion  can  justify  the  violation  of  decency,  and 
the  use  of  rude  and  virulent  expressions,  dictated  only 
by  resentment,  and  uttered  without  regard  to ' 

"Here  Mr.  Pitt  called  to  order,  and  proceeded 
thus : "]  Sir,  if  this  be  to  preserve  order,  there  is  no 
danger  of  indecency  from  the  most  licentious  tongues. 
For  what  calumny  can  be  more  atrocious,  what  re- 
proach more  severe,  than  that  of  speaking  with  re- 
gard to  anything  but  truth.  Order  may  sometimes 


LORD   CHATHAM  269 

be  broken  by  passion  or  inadvertency,  but  will  hardly 
be  re-established  by  a  monitor  like  this,  who  cannot 
govern  his  own  passions  while  he  is  restraining1  the 
impetuosity  of  others. 

Happy  would  it  be  for  mankind  if  every  one  knew 
his  own  province.  We  should  not  then  see  the  same 
man  at  once  a  criminal  and  a  judge  ;  nor  would  this 
gentleman  assume  the  right  of  dictating  to  others 
what  he  has  not  learned  himself. 

That  I  may  return  in  some  degree  the  favor  he  in- 
tends me,  I  will  advise  him  never  hereafter  to  exert 
himself  on  the  subject  of  order  ;  but  whenever  he  feels 
inclined  to  speak  on  such  occasions,  to  remember 
how  he  has  now  succeeded,  and  condemn  in  silence 
what  his  censure  will  never  amend. 


SUSPENSION  OF   THE  HABEAS  COEPUS 
ACT 

JOHN  BEIGHT 

House  of  Commons,  February  17  fh,  1866 

[u  The  disturbed  state  of  Ireland  rendered  it  necessary,  in  the 
opinion  of  the  Government,  to  suspend  the  Habeas  Corpus  Act,  and 
so  give  the  Lord-Lieutenant  unlimited  power  to  arrest  and  detain 
suspected  persons.  For  this  purpose  an  extraordinary  sitting  was 
called  in  both  Houses  of  Parliament  on  Saturday,  February  17th, 
1866,  and  the  Bill  was  run  through  at  once,  receiving  the  Royal  as- 
sent at  twenty  minutes  to  one  o'clock  on  Sunday  morning."] 

I  OWE  an  apology  to  the  Irish  Members  for  step- 
ping in  to  make  an  observation  to  the  House  on  this 
question.  My  strong  interest  in  the  affairs  of  their 
country,  ever  since  I  came  into  Parliament,  will  be  my 
sufficient  excuse.  The  Secretary  of  State  [Sir 
George  Grey],  on  the  part  of  the  Government  of 
which  he  is  a  member,  has  called  us  together  on  an 
unusual  day  and  at  an  unusual  hour,  to  consider  a 
proposition  of  the  greatest  magnitude,  and  which  we 
are  informed  is  one  of  extreme  urgency.  If  it  be  so, 
I  hope  it  will  not  be  understood  that  we  are  here 
merely  to  carry  out  the  behests  of  the  Administration ; 
but  that  we  are  to  be  permitted,  if  we  choose,  to  ob- 
serve upon  this  measure,  and  if  possible  to  say  some- 
thing which  may  mitigate  the  apparent  harshness 
which  the  Government  feels  itself  compelled  to  pur- 
sue. It  is  now  more  than  twenty-two  years  since  I 

270 


JOHN   BRIGHT  271 

was  permitted  to  take  my  seat  in  this  House.  During 
that  time  I  have,  on  many  occasions,  with  great  favor, 
been  allowed  to  address  it ;  but  I  declare  that  during 
the  whole  of  that  period  I  have  never  risen  to  speak 
here  under  so  strong  a  feeling,  as  a  member  of  the 
House,  of  shame,  and  of  humiliation,  as  that  by  which 
I  feel  myself  oppressed  at  this  moment.  The  Secre- 
tary of  State  proposes — as  the  right  honorable  gen- 
tleman himself  has  said — to  deprive  no  inconsiderable 
portion  of  the  subjects  of  the  Queen — our  country- 
men, within  the  United  Kingdom — of  the  commonest, 
of  the  most  precious,  and  of  the  most  sacred  right  of 
the  English  Constitution :  the  right  to  their  personal 
freedom.  From  the  statement  of  the  Secretary  of 
State  it  is  clear  that  this  is  not  asked  to  be  done,  or 
required  to  be  done,  with  reference  only  to  a  small 
section  of  the  Irish  people.  He  has  named  great  coun- 
ties, wide  districts,  whole  provinces  over  which  this 
alleged  and  undoubted  disaffection  has  spread,  and 
has  proposed  that  five  or  six  millions  of  the  inhabi- 
tants of  the  United  Kingdom  shall  suffer  the  loss  of 
that  right  of  personal  freedom  that  is  guaranteed  to 
all  Her  Majesty's  subjects  by  the  Constitution  of 
these  realms. 

Now,  I  do  not  believe  that  the  Secretary  of  State 
has  over-stated  his  case  for  the  purpose  of  inducing 
the  House  to  consent  to  his  proposition.  I  believe 
that  if  the  majority  of  the  people  of  Ireland,  counted 
fairly  out,  had  their  will,  and  if  they  had  the  power, 
they  would  unmoor  the  island  from  its  fastenings, 
and  move  it  at  least  two  thousand  miles  to  the  west. 
And  I  believe,  further,  that  if  by  conspiracy,  or  in- 
surrection, or  by  that  open  agitation  to  which  alone 
I  ever  would  give  any  favor  or  consent,  they  could 
shake  off  the  authority,  I  will  not  say  of  the  English 


272  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

Crown,  but  of  the  Imperial  Parliament,  they  would 
gladly  do  so.  An  honorable  member  from  Ireland  a 
few  nights  ago  referred  to  the  character  of  the  Irish 
people.  He  said,  and  I  believe  it  is  true,  that  there 
is  no  Christian  nation  with  which  we  are  acquainted 
amongst  the  people  of  which  crime  of  the  ordinary 
character,  as  we  reckon  it  in  this  country,  is  so  rare 
as  it  is  amongst  his  countrymen.  He  might  have 
said,  also,  that  there  is  no  people — whatever  they 
may  be  at  home — more  industrious  than  his  country- 
men in  every  other  country  but  their  own.  He  might 
have  said  more — that  they  are  a  people  of  a  cheerful 
and  joyous  temperament.  He  might  have  said  more 
than  this — that  they  are  singularly  grateful  for  kind- 
nesses shown  to  them,  and  that  of  all  the  people  of 
our  race  they  are  filled  with  the  strongest  sentiments 
of  veneration.  And  yet,  with  such  materials  and 
with  such  a  people,  after  centuries  of  government — 
after  sixty-five  years  of  government  by  this  House — 
you  have  them  embittered  against  your  rule,  and 
anxious  only  to  throw  off  the  authority  of  the  Crown 
and  Queen  of  these  realms.  Now,  this  is  not  a  single 
occasion  we  are  discussing.  This  is  merely  an  ac- 
cess of  the  complaint  Ireland  has  been  suffering  under 
during  the  lifetime  of  the  oldest  man  in  this  House: 
of  chronic  insurrection.  No  man  can  deny  this.  I 
dare  say  a  large  number  of  the  members  of  this  House 
had,  at  the  time  to  which  the  right  honorable  member 
for  Buckinghamshire  referred,  heard  the  same  speech 
on  the  same  subject  from  the  same  Minister  to  whom 
we  have  listened  to-day.  [Sir  G.  Grey. — "Wot"'] 
I  certainly  thought  I  heard  the  right  honorable  gen- 
tlemen the  Secretary  of  State  for  the  Home  De- 
partment make  a  speech  before  on  the  same  ques- 
tion, but  he  was  a  Minister  of  the  Government  on 


JOHN  BRIGHT  273 

whose  behalf  a  similar  speech  was  made  on  the  oc- 
casion referred  to,  and  no  doubt  concurred  in  every 
word  that  was  uttered  by  his  colleague. 

Sixty-five  years  ago  this  country  undertook  to 
govern  Ireland.  I  will  say  nothing  of  the  manner 
in  which  that  duty  was  brought  upon  us  except 
this — that  it  was  by  proceedings  disgraceful  and 
corrupt  to  the  last  degree.  I  will  say  nothing  of 
the  pretences  under  which  it  was  brought  about  but 
this — that  the  English  Parliament  and  people,  and 
the  Irish  people,  too,  were  told,  if  you  once  get  rid 
of  the  Irish  Parliament  it  will  dethrone  forever 
Irish  factions,  and  with  a  United  Parliament  we 
shall  become  a  united,  and  stronger,  and  happier 
people.  Now,  during  these  sixty -five  years — and  on 
this  point  I  ask  for  the  attention  of  the  right  honora- 
ble gentleman  who  has  just  spoken  [Mr.  Disraeli] — 
there  are  only  three  considerable  measures  which 
Parliament  has  passed  in  the  interests  of  Ireland. 
One  of  them  was  the  measure  of  1829,  for  the  eman- 
cipation of  the  Catholics  and  to  permit  them  to 
have  seats  in  this  House.  But  that  measure,  so 
just,  so  essential,  and  which,  of  course,  is  not  ever 
to  be  recalled,  was  a  measure  which  the  Chief  Min- 
ister of  the  day,  a  great  soldier,  and  a  great  judge 
of  military  matters  [the  Duke  of  Wellington],  ad- 
mitted was  passed  in  the  face  of  the  menace  and 
only  because  of  the  danger  of  civil  war.  The  other 
two  measures  to  which  I  have  referred  are  the  meas- 
ure for  the  relief  of  the  poor,  and  the  measure  for  the 
sale  of  the  encumbered  estates  ;  and  those  measures 
were  introduced  to  the  House  and  passed  through 
the  House  in  the  emergency  of  a  famine  more  severe 
than  any  that  has  desolated  any  Christian  country 
of  the  world  within  the  last  four  hundred  years. 


274  PEACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

Except  on  these  two  emergencies,  I  appeal  to 
every  Irish  member,  and  to  every  English  member 
who  has  paid  any  attention  to  the  matter,  whether 
the  statement  is  not  true  that  this  Parliament  has 
done  nothing  for  the  people  of  Ireland.  And,  more 
than  that,  the  complaints  of  their  sufferings  have 
been  met — often  by  denial,  often  by  insult,  often  by 
contempt.  And  within  the  last  few  years  we  have 
heard  from  this  very  Treasury  Bench  observations 
with  regard  to  Ireland  which  no  friend  of  Ireland, 
or  of  England,  and  no  minister  of  the  Crown,  ought 
to  have  uttered  with  regard  to  that  country.  Twice 
in  my  Parliamentary  life  this  thing  has  been  done, 
at  least  by  the  close  of  this  day  will  have  been  done 
— and  measures  of  repression — measures  for  the 
suspension  of  the  civil  rights  of  the  Irish  people — 
have  been  brought  into  Parliament  and  passed  with 
extreme  and  unusual  rapidity.  I  have  not  risen  to 
blame  the  Secretary  of  State,  or  to  blame  his  col- 
leagues, for  the  act  of  to-day.  There  may  be  cir- 
cumstances to  justify  a  proposition  of  this  kind,  and 
I  am  not  here  to  deny  that  these  circumstances  now 
exist ;  but  what  I  complain  of  is  this  :  there  is  no 
statesmanship  merely  in  acts  of  force  and  acts  of 
repression.  And  more  than  that,  I  have  not  ob- 
served since  I  have  been  in  Parliament  anything  on 
this  Irish  question  that  approaches  to  the  dignity 
of  statesmanship.  There  has  been,  I  admit,  an  im- 
proved administration  in  Ireland.  There  have  been 
Lord-Lieutenants  anxious  to  be  just,  and  there  is 
one  there  now  who  is  probably  as  anxious  to  do  jus- 
tice as  any  man.  We  have  observed  generally  in 
the  recent  trials  a  better  tone  and  temper  than  were 
ever  witnessed  under  similiar  circumstances  in  Ire- 
land before.  Bat  if  I  go  back  to  the  Ministers  who 


JOHN   BRIGHT  275 

have  sat  on  the  Treasury  Bench  since  I  first  came 
into  this  House — Sir  Robert  Peel  first,  then  Lord 
John  Russell,  then  Lord  Aberdeen,  then  Lord  Der- 
by, then  Lord  Palmerston,  then  Lord  Derby  again, 
then  Lord  Palmerston  again,  and  now  Earl  Russell 
— I  say  that,  with  regard  to  all  these  men,  there  has 
not  been  any  approach  to  anything  that  history  will 
describe  as  statesmanship  on  the  part  of  the  Eng- 
lish Government  toward  Ireland.  There  were  Co- 
ercion Bills  in  abundance — Arms  Bills,  session  after 
session — lamentations  like  that  of  the  right  honor- 
able gentleman,  the  member  for  Buckinghamshire, 
that  the  suspension  of  the  Habeas  Corpus  Act  was 
not  made  perpetual  by  a  clause  which  he  laments  was 
repealed.  There  have  been  Acts  for  the  suspension 
of  the  Habeas  Corpus  Act,  like  that  which  we  are 
now  discussing ;  but  there  has  been  no  statesman- 
ship. Men,  the  most  clumsy,  and  brutal,  can  do 
these  things  ;  but  we  want  men  of  higher  temper — 
men  of  higher  genius — men  of  higher  patriotism  to 
deal  with  the  affairs  of  Ireland. 

I  should  like  to  know  if  those  statesmen  who  hold 
great  offices  have  themselves  comprehended  the 
nature  of  this  question.  If  they  have  not,  they  have 
been  manifestly  ignorant ;  and  if  they  have  compre- 
hended it,  they  have  not  dealt  with  it ;  they  have 
concealed  that  which  they  knew  from  the  people, 
and  evaded  the  duty  they  owe  to  their  Sovereign. 
I  do  not  want  to  speak  disrespectfully  of  men  in 
office.  It  is  not  my  custom  in  this  House.  I  know 
something  of  the  worrying  labors  to  which  they  are 
subjected,  and  I  know  how,  from  day  to  day,  they 
bear  the  burden  of  the  labor  imposed  upon  them  ; 
but  still  I  lament  that  those  who  wear  the  garb,  en- 
joy the  emoluments — and  I  had  almost  said,  usurp 


276  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC    SPEAKING 

the  dignity  Of  statesmanship  —  sink  themselves 
merely  into  respectable  and  honorable  administra- 
tors, when  there  is  a  whole  nation  under  the  Sov- 
ereignty of  the  Queen  calling  for  all  their  anxious 
thoughts— calling  for  the  highest  exercise  of  the 
highest  qualities  of  the  statesman.  I  put  the  ques- 
tion to  the  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer  [Mr.  Glad- 
stone]. He  is  the  only  man  of  this  Government 
whom  I  have  heard  of  late  years  that  has  spoken  as 
if  he  comprehended  this  question,  and  he  made  a 
speech  in  the  last  Session  of  Parliament  that  was 
not  without  its  influence  both  in  England  and  Ire- 
land. I  should  like  to  ask  him  whether  this  Irish 
question  is  above  the  stature  of  himself  and  his  col- 
leagues ?  If  it  be,  I  ask  them  to  come  down  from 
the  high  places  which  they  occupy,  and  try  to  learn 
the  art  of  legislation  and  government  before  they 
practise  it.  I  believe  myself,  if  we  could  divest  our- 
selves of  the  feeling  engendered  by  party  strife,  we 
might  come  to  some  better  results.  Take  the  Chan- 
cellor of  the  Exchequer.  Is  there  in  any  legislative 
assembly  in  the  world  a  man,  as  the  world  judges? 
of  more  transcendent  capacity  ?  I  will  say  even,  Is 
there  a  man  with  more  honest  wish  to  do  good  to 
the  country  in  which  he  occupies  such  a  conspicuous 
place  ?  Take  the  right  honorable  gentleman  oppo- 
site, the  Leader  of  the  Opposition  [Mr.  Disraeli].  Is 
there  in  any  legislative  assembly  in  the  world,  at  this 
moment,  a  man  leading  an  Opposition,  of  more  genius 
for  his  position,  who  has  given  proof,  in  every  way 
but  one  in  which  proof  can  be  given,  that  he  is  com- 
petent to  the  highest  duties  of  the  highest  offices  of 
the  State  ?  Well,  but  these  men — great  men  whom 
we  on  this  side  and  you  on  that  side  to  a  large  ex- 
tent admire  and  follow— fight  for  office,  and  the  re- 


JOHN   BRIGHT  277 

suit  is,  they  sit  alternately  one  on  this  side  and  one 
on  that.  But  suppose  it  were  possible  for  these  men, 
with  their  intellects,  with  their  far-reaching-  vision, 
to  examine  this  question  thoroughly,  and  to  say  for 
once,  whether  this  leads  to  office,  and  to  the  miser- 
able notoriety  that  men  call  Fame,  which  springs 
from  office,  or  not :  "  If  it  be  possible,  we  will  act 
with  loyalty  to  the  Sovereign  and  justice  to  the 
people ;  and  if  it  be  possible,  we  will  make  Ireland 
a  strength  and  not  a  weakness  to  the  British  Em- 
pire." It  is  on  account  of  this  fighting  with  party, 
and  for  party,  and  for  the  gains  which  party  gives, 
that  there  is  so  little  result  from  the  great  intellects 
of  such  men  as  these.  Like  the  captive  Samson  of 
old— 

"  To  grind  in  brazen  fetters,  under  task, 
With  their  Heaven-gifted  strength  " — 

and  the  country  and  the  world  gain  little  by  those 
faculties  which  God  has  given  them  for  the  blessing 
of  the  country  and  the  world. 

The  Secretary  of  State  and  the  right  honorable  gen- 
tleman opposite,  even  in  stronger  language,  have 
referred  to  the  unhappy  fact  that  much  of  what  now 
exists  in  Ireland  has  been  brought  there  from  the 
United  States  of  America.  That  is  not  a  fact  for  us 
to  console  ourselves  with  ;  it  only  adds  to  the  gravity 
and  the  difficulty  of  this  question.  You  may  depend 
upon  it  that  if  the  Irish  in  America,  having  left  this 
country,  settle  there  with  so  strong  a  hostility  to  us, 
they  have  had  their  reasons ;  and  if,  being  there 
with  that  feeling  of  affection  for  their  own  country 
which  in  all  other  cases  in  which  we  are  not  con- 
cerned we  admire  and  reverence,  they  interfere  in 
Ireland  and  stir  up  there  the  sedition  that  now  ex- 
ists, depend  upon  it  there  is  in  the  condition  of 


278  PRACTICAL  PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

Ireland  a  state  of  things  which  greatly  favors  their 
attempts.  There  can  be  no  continued  fire  without 
fuel,  and  all  the  Irish  in  America,  and  all  the  citi- 
zens of  America,  united  together,  with  all  their 
organization  and  all  their  vast  resources,  would  not 
in  England  or  in  Scotland  raise  the  very  slightest 
flame  of  sedition  or  of  insurrectionary  movement. 
I  want  to  know  why  they  can  do  it  in  Ireland.  Are 
you  to  say,  as  some  people  say  in  America  and  in 
Jamaica,  when  speaking  of  the  black  man,  that 
"  nothing  can  be  made  of  the  Irishman  "  ?  Every- 
thing can  be  made  of  him  in  every  country  but  his 
own.  When  he  has  passed  through  the  American 
school — I  speak  of  him  as  a  child,  or  in  the  second 
generation  of  the  Irish  emigrant  in  that  country- 
he  is  as  industrious,  as  frugal,  as  independent,  as 
loyal,  as  good  a  citizen  of  the  American  Republic 
as  any  man  born  within  the  dominions  of  that 
Power.  Why  is  it  not  so  in  Ireland  ?  I  have  asked 
the  question  before,  and  I  will  ask  it  again ;  it  is  a 
pertinent  question,  and  it  demands  an  answer. 
Why  is  it  that  no  Scotchman  who  leaves  Scotland— 
and  the  Scotch  have  been  taunted  and  ridiculed  for 
being  so  fond  of  leaving  their  country  for  a  better 
climate  and  a  better  soil— how  comes  it,  I  ask,  that 
no  Scotchman  who  emigrates  to  the  United  States, 
and  no  Englishman  who  plants  himself  there, 
cherishes  the  smallest  hostility  to  the  people,  to  the 
institutions,  or  to  the  Government  of  his  native 
country  ?  Why  does  every  Irishman  who  leaves  his 
country  and  goes  to  the  United  States  immediately 
settle  himself  down  there,  resolved  to  better  his 
condition  in  life,  but  with  a  feeling  of  ineradicable 
hatred  to  the  laws  and  institutions  of  the  land  of  his 
birth  ?  Is  not  that  a  question  for  statesmanship  ? 


JOHN   BRIGHT  279 

If  the  Secretary  of  State,  since  his  last  measure  was 
brought  in,  now  eighteen  years  ago,  had  had  time 
in  the  multiplicity  of  his  duties  to  consider  this 
question,  possibly,  instead  of  now  moving  for  the 
suspension  of  the  Habeas  Corpus  Act,  he  might 
have  been  rejoicing  at  the  universal  loyalty  which 
prevailed,  not  throughout  Great  Britain  only,  but 
throughout  the  whole  population  of  Ireland.  I 
spent  two  autumns  in  Ireland  in  the  years  1849  and 
1852,  and  I  recollect  making  a  speech  in  this  House 
not  long  afterward  which  some  persons  thought 
was  not  very  wide  of  the  mark.  I  recommended 
the  Ministers  of  that  time  to  take  an  opportunity  to 
hold  an  Irish  Session  of  the  Imperial  Parliament — 
to  have  no  great  questions  discussed  connected  with 
the  ordinary  matters  which  are  brought  before  us, 
but  to  keep  Parliament  to  the  consideration  of  this 
Irish  question  solely,  and  to  deal  with  those  great 
matters  which  are  constant  sources  of  complaint ; 
and  I  said  that  a  session  that  was  so  devoted  to 
such  a  blessed  and  holy  work  would  be  a  session,  if 
it  were  successful,  that  would  stand  forth  in  all  our 
future  history  as  one  of  the  noblest  which  had  ever 
passed  in  the  annals  of  the  Imperial  Parliament. 

Now,  Sir,  a  few  days  ago  everybody  in  this  House, 
with  two  or  three  exceptions,  was  taking  an  oath  at 
that  table.  It  is  called  the  Oath  of  Allegiance. 
It  is  meant  at  once  to  express  loyalty,  and  to  keep 
men  loyal.  I  do  not  think  it  generally  does  bind 
men  to  loyalty,  if  they  have  not  loyalty  without  it. 
I  hold  loyalty  to  consist,  in  a  country  like  this,  as 
much  in  doing  justice  to  the  people  as  in  guarding 
the  Crown — for  I  believe  there  is  no  guardianship 
of  the  Crown,  in  a  country  like  this,  where  the 
Crown  is  not  supposed  to  rest  absolutely  upon 


280  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC    SPEAKING 

force,  so  safe  as  that  of  which  we  know  more  in  our 
day  probably  than  has  been  known  in  former  pe- 
riods of  our  history,  when  the  occupant  of  the 
throne  is  respected,  admired,  and  loved  by  the  gen- 
eral people.  Now,  how  comes  it  that  these  great 
statesmen  whom  I  have  named,  with  all  their  col- 
leagues, some  of  them  as  eminent  almost  as  their 
leaders,  have  never  tried  what  they  could  do — have 
never  shown  their  loyalty  to  the  Crown  by  endeav- 
oring to  make  the  Queen  as  safe  in  the  hearts  of 
the  people  of  Ireland  as  she  is  in  the  hearts  of  the 
people  of  England  and  of  Scotland  ?  Bear  in  mind 
that  the  Queen  of  England  can  do  almost  nothing 
in  these  matters.  By  our  Constitution  the  Crown  can 
take  no  direct  part  in  them.  The  Crown  cannot  di- 
rect the  policy  of  the  government — nay,  the  Crown 
cannot,  without  the  consent  of  this  House,  even 
select  its  Ministers ;  therefore  the  Crown  is  helpless 
in  this  matter.  And  we  have  in  this  country  a 
Queen  who,  in  all  the  civilized  nations  of  the  world, 
is  looked  upon  as  a  model  of  a  Sovereign,  and  yet 
her  name  and  fame  are  discredited  and  dishonored 
by  circumstances  such  as  those  which  have  twice 
during  her  reign  called  us  together  to  agree  to  a  pro- 
position like  that  which  is  brought  before  us  to-day. 
Now,  there  is  an  instructive  anecdote  to  be  found  in 
the  annals  of  the  Chinese  Empire.  In  a  remote 
province  there  was  an  insurrection.  The  Emperor 
put  down  the  insurrection,  but  he  abased  and  hum- 
bled himself  before  his  people,  and  said  that  if  he  had 
been  guilty  of  neglect,  he  acknowledged  his  guilt, 
and  he  humbled  himself  before  those  on  whom  he 
had  brought  the  evil  of  an  insurrection  in  one  of  his 
provinces.  The  Queen  of  these  realms  is  not  so  re- 
sponsible. She  cannot  thus  humble  herself ;  but  I 


JOHN   BRIGHT  281 

say  that  your  statesmen  for  the  last  sixty — for  the 
last  forty — years  are  thus  guilty,  and  they  ought  to 
humble  themselves  before  the  people  of  this  country 
for  their  neglect. 

But  I  have  heard  from  members  in  this  House,  I 
have  seen  much  writing  in  newspapers,  and  I  have 
heard  of  speeches  elsewhere,  in  which  some  of  us, 
who  advocate  what  we  believe  to  be  a  great  and 
high  morality  in  public  affairs,  are  charged  with 
dislike  to  the  institutions,  and  even  disloyalty  to 
the  dynasty  which  rules  in  England.  There  can  be 
nothing  more  offensive,  nothing  more  unjust,  noth- 
ing more  utterly  false.  We  who  ask  Parliament,  in 
dealing  with  Ireland,  to  deal  with  it  upon  the  un- 
changeable principle  of  justice,  are  the  friends  of 
the  people,  and  the  really  loyal  advisers  and  sup- 
porters of  the  Throne.  All  history  teaches  us  that 
it  is  not  in  human  nature  that  men  should  be  con- 
tent under  any  system  of  legislation  and  of  institu- 
tions such  as  exists  in  Ireland.  You  may  pass  this 
Bill,  you  may  put  the  Home  Secretary's  five  hun- 
dred men  in  gaol — you  may  do  all  this,  and  sup- 
press the  conspiracy,  and  put  down  the  insurrec- 
tion ;  but  the  moment  it  is  suppressed  there  will 
still  remain  the  germs  of  this  malady,  and  from 
these  germs  will  spring  up,  as  heretofore,  another 
crop  of  insurrection  and  another  harvest  of  mis- 
fortune. And  it  may  be  that  those  who  sit  here 
eighteen  years  after  this  moment  will  find  another 
Ministry  and  another  Secretary  of  State  to  propose 
to  you  another  administration  of  the  same  ever- 
failing  and  ever-poisonous  medicine.  I  say  there 
is  a  mode  of  making  Ireland  loyal.  I  say  that  the 
Parliament  of  England,  having  abolished  the  Par- 
liament of  Ireland,  is  doubly  bound  to  examine 


282  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

what  that  mode  is,  and,  if  it  can  discover  it,  to  adopt 
it.  I  say  that  the  Minister  who  occupies  office  in 
this  country  merely  that  he  may  carry  on  the  daily 
routine  of  administration,  who  dares  not  grapple 
with  this  question,  who  dares  not  go  into  Opposi- 
tion, and  who  will  sit  anywhere  except  where  he  can 
tell  his  mind  freely  to  the  House  and  the  country, 
may  have  a  high  position  in  this  country,  but  he  is 
not  a  statesman,  nor  is  he  worthy  of  the  name. 

Sir,  I  shall  not  oppose  the  proposition  of  the  right 
honorable  gentleman.  The  circumstances,  I  presume, 
are  such,  that  the  course  which  is  about  to  be  pur- 
sued is  perhaps  the  only  merciful  course  for  Ire- 
land. But  I  suppose  it  is  not  the  intention  of  the 
Government,  in  the  case  of  persons  who  are  arrested, 
and  against  whom  any  just  complaint  can  be  made, 
to  do  anything  more  than  that  which  the  ordinary 
law  permits,  and  that  when  men  are  brought  to 
trial  they  will  be  brought  to  trial  with  all  the 
fairness  and  all  the  advantages  which  the  ordi- 
nary law  gives.  I  should  say  what  was  most  unjust 
to  the  gentlemen  sitting  on  that  [the  Treasury] 
Bench,  if  I  said  aught  else  than  that  I  believe  they 
are  as  honestly  disposed  to  do  right  in  this  matter 
as  I  am,  and  as  I  have  ever  been.  I  implore  them, 
if  they  can,  to  shake  off  the  trammels  of  doubt  and 
fear  with  regard  to  this  question,  and  to  say  some- 
thing that  may  be  soothing — something  that  may 
give  hope  to  Ireland.  I  voted  the  other  night  with 
the  honorable  member  for  Tralee  [Mr.  O'Donoghue]. 
We  were  a  very  small  minority.  Yes,  I  have  often 
been  in  small  minorities.  The  honorable  gentleman 
would  have  been  content  with  a  word  of  kindness 
and  sympathy,  not  for  conspiracy,  but  for  the  peo- 
ple of  Ireland.  That  word  was  not  inserted  in  the 


JOHN   BRIGHT  283 

Queen's  Speech,  and  to-night  the  Home  Secretary 
has  made  a  speech  urging  the  House  to  the  course 
which,  I  presume,  is  about  to  be  pursued ;  but  he 
did  not  in  that  speech  utter  a  single  question  which 
lies  behind  and  is  greater  and  deeper  than  that 
which  he  discussed.  I  hope,  Sir,  that  if  Ministers 
feel  themselves  bound  to  take  this  course  of  sus- 
pending the  common  right  of  personal  freedom  to  a 
whole  nation,  at  least  they  will  not  allow  this  debate 
to  close  without  giving  to  us  and  to  that  nation 
some  hope  that  before  long  measures  will  be  intro- 
duced which  will  tend  to  create  the  same  loyalty  in 
Ireland  that  exists  in  Great  Britain.  If  every  man 
outside  the  walls  of  this  House  who  has  the  interest 
of  the  whole  Empire  at  heart  were  to  speak  here, 
what  would  he  say  to  this  House  ?  Let  not  one  day 
elapse,  let  not  another  session  pass,  until  you  have 
done  something  to  wipe  off  this  blot — for  blot  it  is 
—upon  the  reign  of  the  Queen,  and  scandal  it  is  to 
the  civilization,  and  to  the  justice  of  the  people  of 
this  country. 


THE  NATURE  OF  C HEIST 
HENEY  WABD   BEECHEE 

*4  Wherefore  in  all  things  it  behooved  him  to  be  made  like  unto 
his  brethren,  that  he  might  be  a  merciful  and  faithful  high-priest 
in  things  pertaining  to  God,  to  make  reconciliation  for  the  sins  of 
the  people.  For  in  that  he  himself  hath  suffered,  being  tempted, 
he  is  able  to  succor  them  that  are  tempted." — HEB.  ii.  17,  18. 

"Let  us  therefore  come  boldly  unto  the  throne  of  grace,  that 
we  may  obtain  mercy,  and  find  grace  to  help  in  time  of  need."-' 
HEB.  iv.  16, 

FROM  the  time  that  theology  received  from  the 
Greek  mind  a  philosophic  and  systematic  form,  there 
has  been,  as  compared  with  the  sacred  Scriptures, 
a  total  change  of  the  point  of  view  in  which  Christ 
is  presented,  if  not  universally,  yet  to  a  very  great 
extent.  The  whole  force  of  controversy  has  been  to 
fix  the  place,  the  title,  and  the  nature  of  Christ. 

This  is  a  dynastic  idea.  I  do  not  say  that  it 
ought  not  to  be  sought  out  in  any  degree ;  but  I  do 
say  that  it  is  not  in  accordance  with  the  structure 
and  comprehensive  aim  of  the  New  Testament ;  and 
it  is  not  using  the  facts  or  revelations  of  the  New 
Testament  as  they  were  originally  used,  and  as  they 
were  designed  to  be  used.  It  is  something  outside 
of  the  purposes  of  those  facts  or  revelations. 

The  genius  of  the  New  Testament  is  to  present,  in 
Jesus,  the  most  attractive  and  winning  view  of  God, 
to  inspire  men  with  a  deep  sense  of  the  divine  sym- 
pathy and  helpfulness ;  and  to  draw  men  to  Christ 

284 


HENRY   WARD   BEECHER  285 

as  the  One  who  can  meet  all  their  wants  while  liv- 
ing", when  dying,  and  in  the  great  life  beyond.  Over 
these  three  great  circuits  which  the  imagination 
makes— life,  death,  and  eternity— Christ  is  repre- 
sented as  having  dominion ;  and  he  is  presented  to 
men  in  such  aspects  as  tend,  according  to  the  laws 
of  the  human  soul,  to  draw  them  toward  him  in 
confidence,  in  love,  and  in  an  obedience  which  works 
by  love.  It  is,  therefore,  as  Teacher,  and  Guide  and 
Brother,  and  Saviour ;  it  is  as  Shepherd,  and  Physi- 
cian, and  Deliverer ;  it  is  as  a  Mediator,  a  Forerun- 
ner, and  a  Solicitor  in  court,  that  he  is  familiarly 
represented.  He  is  sometimes,  also— though  sel- 
dom in  comparison  with  other  representations — rep- 
resented as  a  Judge  or  a  Vindicator.  The  force  of 
the  representations  of  the  gospels,  and  of  the  laws 
which  have  sprung  from  the  gospels,  is  to  present 
Christ  as  so  seeking  the  highest  ends  of  human  life, 
and  so  aiming  at  the  noblest  developments  of  char- 
acter in  men,  that  every  man  who  feels  degraded, 
bound,  overcome  by  evil,  shall  also  feel,  "  Here  is 
my  Succor;  here  is  my  remedy  for  that  which  is 
wrong ;  here  is  my  Guide  toward  that  which  is 
right ;  here  is  my  Help  in  those  great  emergencies 
for  which  human  strength  is  vain."  Living  or  dying, 
we  are  the  Lord's — this  is  the  spirit  that  was  meant 
to  be  inculcated. 

Christ  came,  he  said  himself,  not  to  condemn  the 
world,  but  that  the  world  through  him  might  have 
life. 

44  The  Son  of  Man  is  not  come  to  destroy  men's  lives,  but  to  save 
them." 

If,  then,  we  take  our  stand  at  the  point  of  view 
through  which  the  Scriptures  were  developed,  we 


286  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

shall  remove,  I  think,  many  of  the  difficulties  which 
embarrass  the  minds  of  men,  and  which  prevent 
their  making  a  personal  and  saving  use  of  Jesus 
Christ  as  he  is  presented  in  the  Scriptures. 

First,  identification  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  with 
the  human  race  has  been  a  fertile  theme  of  com- 
ment, of  criticism,  and  of  skepticism.  Many  have 
objected  to  it  as  unworthy  any  true  conception  of 
the  divine  nature. 

Now,  it  was  not  the  purpose  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment to  undertake  to  show  us  the  whole  nature  of 
God,  and  to  give  us  the  elements  by  which  we  could 
judge  abstractly  as  to  what  was  and  what  was  not 
fitting.  We  are  limited  in  our  judgment  of  the  di- 
vine nature  by  the  elements  of  our  own  being ;  for 
that  which  is  not  in  some  sense  represented  in  us 
we  can  have  no  conception  of.  The  immutable  prin- 
ciples of  truth,  of  honor,  of  justice,  of  love,  and  of 
mercy,  in  human  nature,  furnish  us  the  materials  by 
which  we  are  enabled  to  judge  of  the  divine  nature. 
Is  it  not,  then,  worthy  of  our  conception  of  God, 
that  he  should  seek  to  win  the  race  to  confidence  in 
him  ?  and  is  there  a  better  way  for  him  to  do  it  than 
by  the  identifying  of  himself  with  the  race  ? 

When  Christ  wished  to  do  his  kindest  works  he 
did  not  stand  afar  off,  saying,  "  Be  this  done,  and  be 
that  done."  He  took  the  blind  man  by  the  hand  and 
led  him  out  of  the  town,  and  healed  him.  He  drew 
near  to  those  whom  he  wished  to  bless,  and  touched 
them.  He  laid  his  hands  upon  them.  And  that 
which  fell  out  in  the  individual  instances  of  Christ's 
life  was  the  thing  which  was  done  in  regard  to  the 
whole  scheme  of  Christ's  appearing.  If  God  spake 
to  men  not  from  afar  off  by  the  word  of  mouth,  or 
intermediately  through  great  natural  laws;  if  he 


HENRY    WARD   BEECHER  287 

sent  his  Son  into  the  world  to  bring  men,  in  theii 
conditions,  and  according  to  their  language,  accord- 
ing to  their  modes  of  understanding,  to  a  true  no- 
tion of  what  the  divine  disposition  and  purpose  were, 
was  not  that  the  best  way  in  which  to  win  their  con- 
fidence ?  If  this  is  so,  then  there  cannot  be  a  method 
conceived  of  by  which  the  human  race  can  be  more 
won  to  confidence  than  by  the  incarnation  of  Jesus 
Christ. 

If  you  look,  in  the  light  of  an  abstract  divine  pro- 
priety, at  the  whole  history  which  is  given  in  the 
gospels  of  the  incarnation  of  Christ,  you  will  reach 
one  sort  of  result ;  but  if  you  look  at  it  from  the  side 
of  the  human  mind  and  of  human  want,  which  is  the 
side  that  is  presented  in  the  New  Testament,  an- 
other and  an  entirely  different  view  will  be  arrived 
at.  We  are  not  put  into  possession  of  those  mate- 
rials by  which  God,  standing  in  the  midst  of  his 
moral  government,  universal  and  all-glorious,  can  be 
inspected  by  us,  except  in  one  particular — namely, 
in  regard  to  what  will  do  good  to  a  race  that  is  so 
low  as  this  is  and  has  been.  Looked  at  from  that 
point  of  view,  would  it  not  be  divine  beneficence, 
would  it  not  stimulate  human  emotion,  would  it  not 
tend  to  draw  men  toward  God,  if  he  should  conduct 
his  mission  and  ministry  upon  earth  so  that  men 
would  feel  that  they  could  interpret  his  nature  by 
the  experience  of  their  own  ?  Would  not  that  have 
the  effect  to  win  men  back  to  him  ? 

Let  me  illustrate  in  another  way.  What  is  that 
which  is  most  becoming  in  woman — what,  but  that 
she  should  dwell  with  her  kindred  ?  What,  but  that 
she  should  separate  herself  from  that  which  is  rude 
and  coarse  ?  What,  but  that  all  those  sweeter  virt- 
ues which  refinement  breeds  should  blossom  from 


288  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

her  perpetually  ?  We  think  of  her  as  the  child  in 
the  cradle  ;  as  the  daughter  at  home ;  as  the  maiden 
sought  or  won ;  as  the  young  bride,  and  as  the  ma- 
tron. All  these  elements  enter  into  our  conception 
of  the  dignity  and  beauty  of  woman.  If,  therefore, 
you  were  to  ask,  What  is  her  sphere  ?  and  what  are 
her  functions  ?  every  one  instinctively  would  say  that 
her  sphere  and  her  functions  were  those  of  moral 
elevation,  of  refinement,  and  of  intellectual  culture. 
Every  one  would  say  that  she  was  born  to  make 
home  bright  and  beautiful.  And  yet,  when  that 
great  concussion  came  that  seemed  likely  to  rend 
the  continent  from  East  and  West ;  when  a  million 
men  in  the  North  were  tramping  southward,  and  a 
million  men  in  the  South  were  tramping  northward, 
and  all  was  rude  warfare  ;  when  men  were  gathered 
from  every  side  of  humanity,  good  and  bad,  mingled 
and  fighting  together  under  the  flag,  where  on  earth 
could  you  have  found  more  dirt,  more  blood,  more 
confusion,  or  more  rudeness  than  in  the  hospitals 
outlying  the  edges  of  the  battle-fields  ?  And  yet, 
woman  walked  there — an  angel  of  light  and  mercy. 
Many  and  many  a  poor  soldier,  the  child  of  Chris- 
tian parents,  dying,  was  led  by  woman's  ministra- 
tion, under  those  adverse  circumstances,  from  the 
very  borders  of  hell  to  the  very  heights  of  faith  and 
hope  and  belief  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  There, 
in  the  place  most  unlikely,  in  the  last  place  you 
would  have  spoken  of  as  the  true  sphere  of  woman — 
there  woman  reaped  a  glory  that  shall  never  die 
so  long  as  there  are  annals  of  this  land.  And  so 
long  as  there  are  annals  of  our  dear  old  fatherland, 
Florence  Nightingale's  name  will  be  remembered. 
There  will  never  be  any  who  will  forget  that  it  was 
in  circumstances  of  humiliation,  and  rudeness,  and 


HENRY   WARD   BEECHER  289 

confusion,  circumstances  where  there  was  everything 
which  was  most  repellent  to  taste  and  refinement, 
that  she  stood  to  relieve  suffering. 

Now,  when  you  think  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
if,  with  the  Greeks,  you  project  some  great  crystal 
scheme  of  government,  and  conceive  of  him  as  ad- 
ministering it ;  if  you  form,  in  the  stithy  of  your 
imagination,  an  ideal  of  a  perfect  God,  ruling  over 
men,  and  bring  that  ideal  into  this  world,  do  you 
not  leave  God  at  an  inaccessible  height  above  the 
heart  of  man  ?    But  if  you  say,  "  He  was  born  of 
woman,  he  grew  from  childhood  to  manhood,  and  at 
thirty  years  of  age  he  became  a  teacher,"  will  not 
that,  I  ask,  be  the  best  thing  that  you  could  do,  in  case 
the  object  of  this  revelation  is  to  win  men  ?     If  the 
design  is  to  inspire  the  human  race  with  confidence 
and  sympathy  toward  their  Maker  and  their  Judge, 
will  not  this  be  the  very  thing  above  all  others  that 
will  do  it  ?    Bring  the  divine  nature  from  the  vast 
cloudy  sphere  beyond  into  this  world,  transmute  it 
into  the  conditions  in  which  we  live,  and  which  limit 
our  understanding,   and    conceive  of    Jehovah   as 
Immanuel,  God  with  us,  and  you  do  that  which  is 
better  calculated  than  anything  else  to  present  the 
conception  of  God  so  that  men's  hearts  shall  take 
hold  of  him.    For  that  which  we  need,  after  all,  is  a 
tendril  which  shall  unite  us  to  God.     Our  God  must 
not  be  ito  us  as  a  storm  nor  a  fire,  if  we  are  to  cling 
to  him.     The  storm   and  the  fire  may  make  men 
afraid  of  evil,  but  they  never  will  call  forth  men's 
love. 

You  might,  by  the  north  wind,  throw  the  convol- 
vulus, the  morning-glory,  the  queen  of  flowers,  pros- 
trate along  the  ground ;  but  it  is  only  when  the 
warm  sun  gives  it  leave  that  it  twines  upward,  about 


290  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

that  which  is  to  support  it,  and  blesses  it  a  thousand- 
fold by  its  efflorescence  all  day  long.  The  terrors 
of  the  Lord  may  dissuade  men  from  evil ;  but  it  is 
the  warm  shining  of  the  heart  of  God  that  brings 
men  toward  his  goodness  and  toward  him. 

This  view  of  Christ  meets  both  theories  of  men's 
origin.  If  men  are  descended  from  a  higher  plane 
by  the  fall  of  their  ancestors,  this  view  of  God  seek- 
ing their  recuperation  is  eminently  fitting;  or,  if 
men  are  a  race  emerging  from  a  lower  plane,  and 
seeking  a  spiritual  condition,  it  is  equally  fitting. 
In  either  case,  what  they  want  is  a  succoring  God ; 
and  such  was  Jesus  Christ  as  presented  to  the  world 
in  his  incarnation. 

Secondly,  it  gives  added  force  to  the  simple  nar- 
rative of  Christ's  life  if  we  look  at  it  from  the  point 
of  view  which  we  have  been  considering — namely, 
such  a  teaching  as  shall  lead  men  to  confidence  in 
and  communion  with  God.  If  you  ask  what  is  be- 
coming in  a  dramatic  God,  or  in  an  ideal  Sovereign, 
you  will  get  one  result,  and  it  will  be  a  human  re- 
sult. If  you  ask  what  would  be  likely  to  inspire 
the  human  family  with  a  profound  sense  of  God's 
sympathy  with  mankind,  and  of  his  helpfulness  to- 
ward them,  would  not  that  be  the  very  result  of  the 
presentation  of  Christ's  life  ?  Look  at  it  as  the  life 
of  One  who  came  to  win  men,  and  does  it  not  touch 
the  universal  chords  of  sympathy  ?  He  was  born  of 
woman  ;  and  that  cloudy  wonder,  the  mystery  of  the 
mother-heart  (which  no  poet  ever  described,  but 
which  was  known  to  Kaphael,  half  woman  as  he  was, 
and  which  was,  though  imperfectly,  yet  marvel- 
lously, expressed  in  the  Sistine  Madonna),  that  won- 
der enveloped  him.  As  the  mother,  holding  her 
child,  looks  with  a  vague  reverence  upon  it,  so  out 


HENRY    WARD   BEECHEB  291 

Saviour  was  looked  upon  by  his  mother  when  he 
was  a  child  in  her  arms.  Therefore,  there  is  not  a 
child  on  the  globe  that  has  not  had  a  Forerunner. 

As  a  child,  Christ  grew  in  stature  and  in  knowl- 
edge. And  that  is  as  much  a  revelation  as  any  other. 
Nor  does  it  detract  from  a  true  and  proper  concep- 
tion of  divinity.  For  if  one  would  make  himself  like 
unto  his  brethren  he  should  begin  where  they  be- 
gan, and  in  everything  but  sin  should  rise  with  them, 
step  by  step,  all  the  way  up. 

Following  Christ  through  his  childhood,  we  find 
that  he  was  subject  to  his  parents.  Unquestionably 
he  participated  in  their  industries,  and  lived  a  work- 
ing man,  in  a  great  northern  province  crowded  with 
a  population  which  included  all  manner  of  foreign 
elements,  under  the  dominion  of  a  foreign  sceptre. 
There,  in  the  midst  of  the  distresses  of  the  people — 
and  they  were  exceedingly  great — he  grew  up  a 
working  man;  and  there  is  nothing  in  the  history 
or  experience  of  the  great  mass  of  mankind  who  are 
working  men  that  he  is  not  fitted  to  sympathize 
with. 

Has  not  this  already  touched  a  universal  chord  ? 
Has  it  not  even  made  skepticism  admire  it  ?  Men 
who  reject  as  history  the  details  of  the  life  of  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ ;  men  who  set  aside  his  miracles 
and  many  of  his  words,  will  not  let  die  the  character 
which  he  has  lived  and  impressed  upon  the  world's 
thought  and  the  world's  imagination. 

One  of  the  most  affecting  things  that  I  know  of  is 
the  way  in  which  men  deal  with  this  "  fiction,"  as 
they  call  it.  They  take  the  life  of  Christ,  and  say 
that  it  is  mythical ;  or,  they  say  that  it  is  the  life  of 
an  extraordinary  man,  of  a  genius,  but  not  of  a  divine 
Being ;  and  yet,  it  is  a  life  that  believer  and  unbe- 


292  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

liever  alike  will  not  let  die.  There  are  all  sorts  of 
men  in  the  various  schools,  who  are  saying  of  the 
nature  and  character  which  are  attributed  to  Christ, 
"  This  is  so  wonderful  a  nature  and  character  that 
the  world  would  be  impoverished  if  we  were  to  lose 
it."  Such  impressions  have  been  produced  by  the 
circumstances  in  which  Christ  lived  among-  men. 

Thirdly,  the  miracles  of  Christ,  looked  at  from  the 
same  point  of  view,  have  been  very  much  perverted 
by  discussions,  and  by  not  being  looked  at  along  the 
line  in  which  they  were  meant  to  play.  They  were 
simply  charities.  They  were,  to  be  sure,  alleged  to 
have  a  certain  influence  among  an  abject  and  super- 
stitious-minded people,  but  Christ  himself  under- 
valued them  as  moral  evidence.  They  were  alterna- 
tive as  evidence.  "  If  you  will  not  believe  me  for 
my  own  sake,"  he  says,  "  believe  me  for  my  works' 
sake."  He  held  that  the  radiant  presentation  of  a 
divine  nature  ought  to  carry  its  own  evidence  ;  that 
when  he  appeared  in  speech,  in  conduct,  in  affluent 
affection,  he  was,  himself,  his  own  best  evidence  ;  and 
yet,  if  they,  by  reason  of  obtuseness,  could  not  believe 
in  him  otherwise,  he  called  upon  them  to  believe  in 
him  for  the  sake  of  his  miracles.  That  would  be 
better  than  nothing.  But  he  discouraged  and  dis- 
suaded men  from  seeking  after  miracles  or  signs. 
The  miracles  of  Christ  were,  almost  all  of  them, 
mere  acts  of  benevolence.  He  was  poor ;  he  had 
neither  money  nor  raiment  to  give  ;  and  yet  there 
was  suffering  around  about  him,  and  he  relieved  it. 
The  miracles  of  Christ  were  never  wrought  in  an 
ostentatious  way.  Never  were  they  wrought  for  the 
purpose  of  exalting  himself.  They  were  not  em- 
ployed where  arguments  failed,  to  carry  men  away 
by  superstitious  enthusiasm.  Multitudes  resorted 


HENRY  WARD   BEECHER  293 

to  him  for  help— the  sick,  the  blind,  the  deaf,  lepers, 
all  kinds  of  unfortunate  people  ;  and  miracles  were 
his  means  of  bestowing  charity  upon  them.  No 
hospital  had  he  to  which  he  could  send  them  ;  he 
was  his  own  hospital.  No  retinue  or  army  had  he  to 
send  out  among-  the  masses  of  the  Palestinian  land. 
His  own  hand  and  voice  were  his  universal  instru- 
ments of  mercy.  His  miracles  were  his  general  acts 
of  kindness.  As  laid  down  in  the  gospel  they  rep- 
resent the  heart  of  God.  And  what  an  error  is  often 
committed  in  regard  to  the  beneficent  deeds  of  the 
Redeemer  and  Saviour  of  the  world,  as  to  the  pur- 
poses for  which  they  were  performed !  They  were 
never  performed  for  his  own  sake.  If  there  are 
apparent  exceptions,  there  are  no  real  ones.  For 
instance,  at  the  baptism  of  Christ,  the  sound  of  a 
voice  and  the  descent  of  a  dove  were  not  his  own 
miracles.  They  were  imposed  upon  him.  And  the 
greatest  of  all  wonders  which  were  wrought,  in  its 
dramatic  beauty — the  Transfiguration — was  as  much 
a  miracle  of  mercy  as  the  miracle  of  the  loaves  and 
fishes.  The  disciples  had  lately  been  driven  out  of 
Galilee,  and  they  had  come  to  Jerusalem,  and  their 
faith  needed  resuscitation — as  also  did  his  own,  since 
he  was  in  the  form  of  man,  not  only,  but  had  the  ex- 
perience of  a  man  ;  and  as  they  stood  upon  the 
Mount,  he  was,  as  it  were,  lifted  up  before  them. 
He  seemed  to  them  to  be  in  the  midst  of  a  luminous 
atmosphere ;  and  heavenly  visitants  were  commun- 
ing with  him.  Thus  they  were  strengthened  and 
prepared  for  a  remote  period  when  he  should  be 
crucified  and  buried  out  of  their  sight.  It  was  in- 
tended that  there  should  be  a  witchery  and  magic 
connected  with  this  event  which  should  hold  them 
to  their  faith  in  spite  of  the  lack  of  outward  evidence. 


294  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

The  ministration  thus  to  the  higher  spiritual  nature 
of  these  disciples  was  as  bread  and  wine  to  the  lower 
bodily  wants  of  men. 

Now,  if  you  adopt  the  philosophical  view,  and  dis- 
cuss the  peculiarities  of  Christ's  miracles  purely 
from  the  standpoint  of  nature,  you  will  reach  certain 
results  ;  but  if  you  suppose  that  they  will  be  the 
results  contemplated  by  the  New  Testament,  you 
are  mistaken. 

For  instance,  I  reach  forth  my  hand  and  draw 
a  drowning  man  out  of  the  water.  Some  one,  hear- 
ing of  it,  and  wishing  to  give  a  philosophical  ex- 
planation of  the  act,  takes  a  hand,  and  dissects  it, 
and  paints  it.  First,  he  paints  the  whole  hand ;  then 
underneath  he  paints  each  finger  separately ;  then 
below  he  paints  all  the  muscles  ;  and  then  he  writes 
a  little  treatise  on  the  structure  and  adaptation  of 
the  hand ;  and  then  he  says,  "  There  is  my  interpre- 
tation of  that  act."  But  it  is  not  a  dissected  hand 
that  the  man  thinks  of,  whom  I  seized  at  the  risk 
of  my  life  and  rescued  from  the  boiling  flood.  It 
does  not  occur  to  him  that  the  hand  that  saved  him 
was  composed  of  bone,  or  muscle,  or  skin,  or  any- 
thing else.  It  was  what  was  done  by  the  hand  that 
interpreted  itself  to  him,  and  that  was  the  all-im- 
portant thing. 

Miracles  discussed  philosophically  are  out  of  the 
sphere  of  Christian  experience.  What  we  want  to 
know,  along  the  line  of  Christ's  miraculous  deeds, 
is,  that  they  all  aimed  at  one  thing— namely,  the 
opening  of  a  more  bountiful  conception  of  divine 
sympathy  than  could  have  been  developed  under 
any  other  circumstances.  Viewed  in  that  light  they 
are  a  potential  evidence,  not  so  much  of  the  power 
to  which  they  have  almost  always  been  referred,  but 


HENRY    WARD    BEEOHER  295 

of  the  inner  heart  of  Jesus  ;  they  are  a  powerful  de- 
velopment of  the  divine  bounty  and  sympathy  and 
kindness;  and  who  has  the  heart  to  dispute  them 
on  that  line  ? 

Looked  at,  also,  from  the  same  point  of  view — 
namely,  that  of  the  relations  of  Christ  to  the  world 
for  the  sake  of  developing  in  men  confidence  in  God 
and  sympathy  with  him — I  remark  that  the  Saviour's 
suffering  and  death  will  receive  new  light.  Every- 
thing becomes  involved  and  difficult  and  inopera- 
tive -the  moment  you  discuss  the  history  of  Christ 
from  the  material  and  dynastic  sides.  Why  did 
Christ  suffer  ?  If  you  say,  in  reply,  "  That  he  might 
redeem  men  from  sin,"  you  have  said  the  whole  ;  and 
just  so  soon  as  you  begin  to  go  back  and  ask,  "  How 
did  his  suffering  redeem  men  from  death  ?  "  you  are 
wandering  right  away  from  the  heart  of  Christ  to  the 
cold  Greek  philosophical  view  of  him. 

If  you  bring  to  me  the  tidings  that  my  mother  is 
dead,  she  who  bore  me,  and  hovered  over  all  my  in- 
fant days,  and  tenderly  loved  me  to  the  last,  you 
open  the  floodgates  of  sympathy  in  my  soul.  But 
suppose  a  physician  comes  to  me  and  sits  down 
by  my  side,  and  says,  "  You  understand,  my  young 
friend,  that  there  are,  in  the  human  frame  a  variety 
of  systems — the  vascular  system,  the  bony  system, 
the  muscular  system,  the  nervous  system  ;  you  un- 
derstand that  there  are  vital  organs — the  stomach, 
the  liver,  the  heart,  the  brain :  now,  if  you  will  lis- 
ten, I  will  explain  to  you,  in  a  philosophical  man- 
ner, the  causes  of  your  mother's  death.  I  will  show 
you  the  way  in  which  the  blood  ceased  to  circulate 
in  her  veins."  He  wants  to  read  me  an  anatomical 
lecture  on  the  nature  of  the  reasons  of  my  mother's 
death !  If  I  have  wandered  away  from  home  and 


296  PRACTICAL  PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

friends,  and  my  mother  is  dead,  and  you  come  to 
break  the  intelligence  to  me,  I  think  you  will  leave 
out  of  your  message  everything-  except  the  announce- 
ment of  her  death  and  her  last  words.  You  will  say, 
if  such  be  the  fact,  "  She  prayed  for  you,  and  she 
died  exclaiming,  '  My  son  !  O  my  son ! ' !  And 
there  is  not  a  human  heart  that  would  not  feel  the 
power  of  a  simple  statement  like  this. 

Tell  me  that  fie  who  is  to  be  my  Judge  bowed  his 
head  and  came  into  my  condition ;  tell  me  that  tye 
was  not  ashamed  to  call  men  Jps  brethren  ;  tell  me, 
that,  being  in  the  form  of  God,  and  thinking  it  not 
robbery  to  be  equal  with  God.  Ijp  made  himself  of 
no  reputation,  and  took  upon  f|im  the  form  of  a  ser- 
vant, that  fte  might  minister  to  men  ;  tell  me  that  pe 
was  tried  and  tempted  in  all  points  like  as  we  are, 
and  yet  without  sin,  that  »e  might  know  how  to 
succor  those  who  were  in  trial  and  temptation  ;  tell 
me  that  pe  died  that  fjiis  death  might  be  a  memo- 
rial of  grace  to  men,  and  that  he  might  expound 
to  human  understandings  the  nature  of  God — tell 
me  these  things,  and  I  am  satisfied.  "  Greater  love 
hath  no  man  than  this,  that  a  man  lay  down  his  life 
for  his  friends," — tell  me  what  that  means.  It  is  de- 
clared that  Christ  gave  his  life  for  the  world  ;  what 
is  the  meaning  of  that  ?  Away  with  your  barbaric 
notions  !  Away  with  the  idea  of  marshalled  forces  ! 
Away  with  the  thought  of  imperial  coercions  !  That 
which  I  derive  from  the  fragrance  and  sweetness  of 
that  magnificent  sacrifice  which  was  made  in  Christ's 
death  is  sufficient  for  me.  All  that  I  want  to  know 
is  that  the  heart  of  God  is  a  heart  that  yearns  for 
men — that  it  is  a  paternal  heart  by  which  the  uni- 
verse is  to  be  lifted  up  and  saved.  I  do  not  stop  to 
ask  what  is  the  relation  of  the  suffering  of  the  Lord 


HENRY   WARD   BEECHER  297 

Jesus  Christ  to  divine  law  ;  neither  do  I  stop  to  ask 
what  its  relation  is  to  the  moral  government  of  the 
universe  ;  nor  do  I  stop  to  ask  what  is  its  relation 
to  the  teaching  of  the  Old  Testament.  All  these 
things  may  have  their  proper  place  in  an  outside 
work ;  but  to  discuss  them  and  make  them  part  of 
Gospel  truths  is  to  go  not  only  put  of,  but  against, 
the  example  and  spirit  of  the  New  Testament ;  for 
that  which  the  sufferings  and  death  of  Christ  mean 
to  you  and  to  me  is  that  God  so  loved  the  world  that 
he  gave  his  only  begotten  Son  to  die  for  it,  and  that 
in  this  sacrifice  we  have  the  manifestation,  not  only 
of  the  power,  but  of  the  disposition  of  God  to  save 
us  from  animalism,  from  degradation,  from  guilt,  and 
to  bring  us  into  a  knowledge  of  the  spiritual  life, 
and  make  us  sons  of  God. 

Therefore,  was  there  ever  such  a  perversion  as 
that  by  which  theology  has  blunted  the  sensibilities 
and  frozen  the  instincts  of  men,  and  presented  to 
them  a  sort  of  Greek  philosophy  of  the  atonement  of 
Christ  Jesus — by  which  that  sort  of  mechanical  bal- 
ancing of  forces  which  men  have  called  atonement, 
atonement,  ATONEMENT,  has  been  urged  upon  men — 
when  that  which  the  human  heart  wanted  and  Christ 
and  the  New  Testament  gave  was  not  a  substantive 
noun,  meaning  some  arrangement  or  plan,  but  the 
truth  of  a  living,  personal  Saviour  ?  I  can  say  of 
these  scholastic  discussions,  "  They  have  taken  away 
my  Lord,  and  I  know  not  where  they  have  laid  him." 
But  yes,  I  do  know  where  they  have  laid  him  :  they 
have  laid  him  under  the  dry  bones  of  philosophy. 
They  have  covered  him  up  with  slavish  systems 
which  impose  upon  men  the  performance  of  certain 
duties,  the  observance  of  given  forms  and  cere- 
monies, and  obedience  to  certain  rules,  as  the  con- 


298  PRACTICAL  PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

ditions  of  their  salvation.  Acts,  acts,  ACTS,  have  been 
prescribed  for  men,  when  all  they  wanted  to  know 
was  that  there  was  a  stream  flowing  out  from  under 
the  throne  of  God,  and  for  ever  carrying  to  men  life- 
giving  influences.  This  stream,  sent  forth  out  of  the 
centre  of  God's  throne,  is  the  impulse  of  the  centu- 
ries. It  is  the  wisdom  of  God  and  the  power  of  God 
unto  salvation  to  every  man  that  believes. 

So  accepted,  the  sufferings  of  Christ,  his  death, 
his  resurrection  and  glory,  are  powers  ;  but  the  mo- 
ment you  turn  them  into  a  philosophy  they  are  dead 
and  dry,  and  they  crackle  under  the  pot  of  discus- 
sion until  all  its  contents  are  evaporated  and  gone. 

I  remark,  once  more,  that  the  views  of  Christ's  res- 
urrection, his  ascension,  his  glorification,  and  his 
reigning  state  in  heaven,  as  they  are  presented  in 
the  Scriptures,  are  exceedingly  comforting,  and  ex- 
ert an  amazing  influence ;  but  when  they  are  pre- 
sented by  close  analysis,  by  a  philosophical  state- 
ment, they  lose  all  their  power,  and  shake  down  upon 
us  no  fruit  whatever. 

Christ  is  our  Forerunner ;  this  we  can  form  some 
conception  of.  He  is  the  first-fruits  of  them  that 
slept ;  this,  while  it  brings  no  special  idea  to  us, 
to  the  Jew  brought  most  joyous  associations.  He 
is  our  Mediator ;  he  is  our  Intercessor — we  in- 
stinctively feel  the  force  of  the  helpfulness  of  these 
figures. 

Now,  you  will  spoil  it  all  if  you  go  into  a  com- 
plete analysis,  and  specify  everything  that  you  can 
imagine  of  a  forerunner,  and  tell  what  he  does  do 
and  what  he  does  not  do  ;  if  you  undertake  to  draw 
an  exact  parallel  between  the  first-fruits  of  them  that 
slept  and  the  first-fruits  of  the  harvests  of  the  Jews ; 
if  you  undertake  to  dissect  and  regulate  the  offices 


HENRY   WARD   BEECHER  299 

of  a  mediator  between  God  and  man,  or  a  mediator 
of  the  new  covenant ;  if  you  undertake  to  describe 
the  functions  of  an  intercessor.  All  the  aroma  will 
evaporate  if  you  go  thus  into  detail.  No  :  if  you  tell 
me  that  Christ  died  for  men,  and  that  he  now  lives 
in  heaven  for  them  ;  that  he  is  their  Intercessor  near 
to  God,  the  Source  of  all  power ;  that  he  thinks  of 
them  and  governs  them ;  that  he  is  bringing  many 
sons  and  daughters  home  to  glory  ;  that  he  is  our 
Forerunner  in  the  world  beyond  ;  that  he  is  our  So- 
licitor in  court — if  you  tell  me  these  things,  I  am 
comforted  ;•  but  the  more  you  undertake  to  refine 
these  metaphors,  and  reduce  them  to  exactitude, 
the  more  you  take  away  the  comfort  which  might  be 
derived  from  them.  Let  them  stand  in  their  sim- 
plicity, if  you  would  have  them  powerful  in  their  in- 
fluence upon  the  imagination,  the  heart,  and  the 
life. 

If  you  take  a  cluster  of  flowers  just  as  they  are, 
with  the  dew  upon  them,  how  exquisite  they  are ! 
but  you  tarnish  them  by  just  so  much  as  you  meddle 
with  them.  Every  one  who  dissects  a  flower  must 
make  up  his  mind  to  lose  it. 

That  sweetest  flower  of  heaven,  from  which  ex- 
hales perfume  forever  and  forever ;  that  dearest  and 
noblest  conception  that  the  human  imagination  ever 
gathered  out  of  father  and  mother,  out  of  leader 
and  benefactor,  out  of  shepherd  and  protector,  out 
of  companion  and  brother  and  friend ;  all  that  ever 
was  gracious  in  government  —  these  various  ele- 
ments, rising  together,  are  an  interpretation,  in  a 
kind  of  large  and  vague  way,  to  the  imagination, 
and  through  the  imagination  to  the  heart,  that  there 
is,  at  the  centre  of  universal  authority  toward  which 
we  are  going,  One  who  cares  for  us  ;  One  who  bears 


300  PRACTICAL   PUBLIC   SPEAKING 

our  burdens  ;  One  who  guides  our  career ;  One  who 
hears  our  cry ;  and  One,  though  he  does  not  inter- 
pret himself  to  us,  who  will  at  last  make  it  plain 
that  all  things  have  worked  together  for  the  good  of 
those  that  have  trusted  in  him. 

Now,  a  man,  as  a  philosopher,  may  preach  Christ 
from  beginning  to  end,  and  yet  his  people  may  grow 
in  grace  and  in  the  knowledge  of  Christ ;  but  that 
is  not  the  general  result  of  such  preaching.  The 
way  is  to  preach  Christ,  and  to  aim  at  preaching 
Christ,  so  that  the  souls  of  the  people  shall  be  built 
up  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ ;  and  it  is  exactly  in 
this  way  that  I  have  desired  to  preach  Christ  among 
you. 

Oh,  my  brethren,  we  are  not  far  from  the  end  of 
our  journey.  It  matters  very  little  what  this  world 
and  time  have  for  us.  The  other  world  is  near  to 
us,  and  it  matters  everything  how  we  shall  land 
there.  We  have  our  burdens,  our  crosses,  our  poig- 
nant sorrows,  sickness,  and  death,  embarrassments, 
bankruptcy,  trials,  and  if  not  outward  scourgings 
yet  inward  scourgings.  We  are  not  exempt  from 
the  great  lot  of  mankind ;  and  we  go  crying  often 
with  prone  heads.  We  are  like  bulrushes  before 
the  wind,  bowed  down  to  the  very  earth.  And  is  it 
a  comfort  for  you  to  know  that  there  is  a  God  who 
thinks  of  you  ?  to  know  that  there  is  One  who  is 
crying  out  in  the  silence,  if  you  could  only  by  your 
spiritual  hearing  listen,  saying,  "  Come  boldly  to 
the  throne  of  grace,  and  obtain  mercy  and  help  in 
time  of  need  ?  " 

O  throne  of  iron,  from  which  have  been  launched 
terrible  lightnings  and  thunders  that  have  daunted 
men !  O  throne  of  crystal,  that  has  coldly  thrown 
out  beams  upon  the  intellect  of  mankind !  O  throne 


HENRY    WARD   BEECHER  301 

of  mystery,  around  about  which  have  been  clouds 
and  darkness! — O  throne  of  Grace,  where  He  sits 
regnant  who  was  my  brother,  who  has  tasted  of  my 
lot,  who  knows  my  trouble,  my  sorrow,  my  yearning 
and  longing  for  immortality !  O  Jesus,  crowned, 
not  for  thine  own  glory,  but  with  power  of  love  for 
the  emancipation  of  all  struggling  spirits! — thou 
art  my  God — my  God ! 

And  is  he  your  God?  Ah,  yes!  I  beseech  of 
everyone  who  has  any  trouble,  everyone  who  needs 
help,  to  try  the  help  of  God  given  through  Jesus  in 
faith  and  trust.  You  cannot  please  him  better. 
Come,  lay  down  your  anxiety  and  your  strivings ; 
lift  up  your  heart,  and  believe  that  He  who  has 
guided  his  people  like  a  flock  will  guide  you,  and 
perfect  you,  and  bring  you  home  to  immortality. 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW 

AN  INITIAL  FINE  OF  25  CENTS 

WILL  BE  ASSESSED   FOR   FAILURE  TO   RETURN 
THIS   BOOK  ON   THE   DATE  DUE.   THE  PENALTY 
WILL  INCREASE  TO  SO  CENTS  ON  THE  FOURTH 
DAY    AND    TO    $1.OO    ON    THE    SEVENTH     DAY 
OVERDUE. 

NOV      ft  194? 

. 

APR  30   1943 

- 

• 

JUN     IS  ^ 

LOAN 

JUN     1»  Y 

r~i  r~  o   1   i  -       r- 

utt  !  .;,  fSTD 

JUN  18  1946 

APR  ?  6  1998 

.lEtlU    1  /\   4Aj-« 

uuw  10  1,047 

29Jul'53BW 

• 

flrmtefiBH 

(.           '  V  ^    i- 

LD  21-100m-7,'40(6936s) 

5J 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


